With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers
by Blondiiee
Summary: What was once simple, is now complex. What Peyton once loved—who she once loved—she now hates. What she thought she knew to be true, is now lies. Nothing makes sense anymore, and she knows she's supposed to tell someone what happened but she can't. So she buries it instead. And she buries the way she used to be. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

**With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers : Chapter 1**

Title: With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers

Author(s): Blondiiee

Pairing/Characters: Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer

Rating: M

Warnings: heavy sexual situations

Summary: What was once simple, is now complex. What Peyton once loved—who she once loved—she now hates. What she thought she knew to be true, is now lies. Nothing makes sense anymore, and she knows she's supposed to tell someone what happened but she can't. So she buries it instead. And she buries the way she used to be. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason.

 **CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains RAPE and it is very graphic. I understand that it may be upsetting for some readers and I'm sorry for that but it was important for me personally to get it out and the story was always going to go this way. It has been planned chapter-by-chapter from start to finish from the moment the idea popped into my head many months ago. Please don't hate me for this chapter because it's crucial to the story. And Rape is very serious.**

Chapter 1

She remembered the date exactly, it was August twentieth. It was a Wednesday and fall was just beginning. There had been an away game happening that weekend and the teachers had wanted to take all the students to the concert lounge in the hotel as a congratulation on winning the game and it was meant to be a late night out for all the cheerleaders and basketball players. At that time of night the hotel lobby was always fairly serene in nature.

She had been reluctant at first because she hadn't wanted to be around Lucas and Brooke all night when she had unresolved feelings for the broody blond, but then she had decided to swallow her pride and push through it, because that was what Peyton Sawyer did best.

Pretend.

When she had gotten herself ready to leave, which had been at about eleven o clock at night, she had started walking towards the lift in the quiet hotel corridor. She had been wearing a black crop top covered in sequins and tight jeans that hugged to her frame perfectly, ready to prove to Lucas what he was missing out on.

Her way of getting back at him. But strong arms had banded roughly around her waist, a hand had clasped around her mouth to muffle her scream and she had been whisked away to somewhere dark.

Somewhere dangerous.

All because she had bent down to tie that stupid strap on her shoe. She should have been more aware.

The Swedish mens' hands had been rough as they clamped down onto her arms.

She still couldn't understand how she had wiggled free in those moment before, but they hadn't taken any more chances of her escape a second time and one of a strong men had grabbed her and threw her over his shoulders while the others had held her flailing hands and legs still as they dragged her from the hotel's silent lobby.

She had hated her outfit choice for that night and remembered being unceremoniously dumped in the back of some kind of transport van and her exposed shoulder had caught a jagged piece of metal, scraping painfully as she fell.

Three men had loaded her into the back of the van behind her and the doors were slammed shut just as the engines roared to life.

She remembered hearing the front doors close as well, but it registered as a side thought while the three men had twisted her roughly and pinned her to the ground to pull her arms behind her back.

She had felt the bite of a thick plastic zip tie being secured more tightly than necessary around her small wrists as she was pressed face first into the floor of the van.

And the following moment later her flailing legs had been captured and given the same treatment, though less painfully as she had fortunately chosen to wear pants instead of a skirt and her ankles were covered as protection against the thick plastic band that had been pinching into her skin.

She remembered the distinctive accents of the men speaking in their foreign language had left her slightly confused, but the laughter that broke throughout the van had hinted at the direction of their comments as the three men settled into seats along the wall of the van and left her sprawled face first on the floor.

The ride to what she had only assumed would be some house in the middle of nowhere had not nearly been as long as she had have expected, and before she really prepared herself, she had been being brutally yanked by her arms out of the back of the van.

Her bound feet had hit the ground hard and she had teetered for a moment, certain she would fall and not be able to catch herself, but one of the men had bent and lifted her over his shoulder again.

Unable to put up much of a fight against her incarceration at that point, she hadn't even bothered struggling as they carried her away from the car into a building that had looked far too nice to be just a normal house.

The men had stopped in front of a large wooden door and swung it open before she was hauled inside and unceremoniously dropped into an over sized chair.

Her shoulder's had screamed with pain as her arms were wrenched around by the fall and she was unable to cushion the impact even against a soft landing.

The men had continued in their foreign language, voices escalating as they obviously had begun arguing about something she didn't understand.

She had taken their distraction as an opportunity to assess her surrounding and remembered being surprised at the opulence of the décor.

The room was obviously some kind of suite, a door off to one side had opened into a large bathroom with white and black marble had shared the space and broadcasted wealth.

The room in itself had been probably six or eight of their rooms back at the hotel with vaulted ceilings and oversized furniture.

She couldn't see behind her, but the view from where she had been sat and could pivot her head spoke of great wealth from the oversized bed with its deep purple and gold bedding, rich dark wood and tall corner posts hoisting diaphanous fabric pulled to each corner, but obviously one pull of a tie strap from enveloping the bed in semi-privacy of the opaque fabric.

She remembered it being like a dream from her younger days of what her room would look like where she would become a princess and she wasn't discounting the bed as a dream that she still had for one day when she made it to the big time and had money for frivolity.

There had been a sharp, stern voice that had cut the men right off from their argument and the two that she had seen had snapped to attention immediately.

They were obviously in the presence of someone with great power and she hoped that this was where she would receive her chance to explain the accident that had brought her into the custody of the Yerbian superior.

She couldn't believe a simple strap on her shoe had resulted in her finding herself in this comfortable chair in a decidedly uncomfortable position as her arms bent unnaturally behind her and she waited for whatever was coming so that maybe she would be released from this cruel binding.

The argument had finished in silence before she heard the heavily accented words of the deep voice from the moment before, "Yesterday you committed a grave offense against my country and my family." the man informed her as he rounded to stand in front of her and she could see almost immediately his resemblance to the man on the left. He had been younger, far more attractive and obviously he took much pride in his appearance, but he was clearly of close relation to the man she had been accused of assaulting.

"It was an accident." she protested quickly, "My shoe broke, I didn't mean. . ."

She hadn't even known what she was sorry for.

She remembered being cut off by the stern look from the man that had stood before her.

He wore the look easily on his chiseled features, looking far more menacing than any other man in his early twenties that she had ever come across and god she was only sixteen.

"Shut up." he had hissed vehemently and then shot a withering look at the men as he barked out another order.

They had spoken a single syllable in unison before they had all turned and left the room.

The man had towered over her for a moment before he had begun pacing with barely restrained anger in front of her.

He shot the occasional glance in her direction as he seemed to silently puzzle through something.

His broad shoulders high with confidence as his powerful stride took him back and forth before her and despite the situation, Peyton had felt herself admiring the man. He was obviously well built beneath the almost regal fabric of his well fit outfit.

The black material had pulled taut across his muscled chest displaying various insignia and badges that had made her wonder at the significance of them as she sat there.

He had seemed to come to some kind of decision as he stopped before her to glare down in a manner that left her suddenly fearful.

"You have brought shame on my family with your careless actions." he informed her in his accented English, "You Americans seem to think that you can do no wrong, but today you will learn that there are consequences to your actions." The man had obviously thought she was someone she wasn't and she had been about to pay the price for something she didn't even do.

Before she had been able to puzzle through what that statement had meant, he had lunged forward and grabbed her roughly around her arms, pulling her to her unsteady feet that had been still lashed together with the plastic zip tie.

She remembered wavering a moment, but he hadn't seemed intent on her walking anywhere, or hopping as the case would have been, as he impatiently tugged her with him.

His strong arms kept her upright as he dragged her across the large main area and threw her easily onto the bed.

She recalled beginning to shake as realization had set in as to the apparent direction of the superior's thoughts.

She hadn't considered the reason for her relocation to this place or this room until just this moment as her body impacted with the soft bed and the dark haired man looked down at her with a menacing sneer that should have made him far less attractive than he had been mere moments before.

She had watched his eyes heat up with something intense she had never in her seventeen years witnessed before.

Her frightened eyes had followed his movements and he had smiled with the power he held over her as her frightened eyes widened even more when he pulled the large knife from a sheath on his belt. He had no obviously had no intention of cutting her, but she hadn't known that.

Her fear had inspired a grin of pure pleasure on his face as she had begun to struggle again against the bindings.

She was sure he had been able to tell that she was uncomfortable with her arms being held behind her, but without his people, he hadn't been sure about releasing her from both her hand and leg bindings at the same time until she had struggled enough to wear herself down a little more completely.

He had no doubts that he could overpower any defense she might of put up, but the man had obviously also had no desire to have scratches healing on his neck or face if she got her claws into him as she fought him off.

Instead of heading directly for her bindings, he had given her a menacing smile as he brought the knife closer to her shaking body. She had stilled once the knife got close enough that she was concerned that he would cut her if she wriggled at the wrong moment.

That fear as her eyes filled with tears had brought a real smile to his face as blood rushed to his cock at the thought of his total control over this young American Goldilocks.

He was delighted at her beauty. Most of the women in his country who came to the states to live were usually not much to look upon.

Some were still fun and the ones he had no interest in taking himself he would give to his friends and could still enjoy the screams that rented the air as the woman was brutally taken repeatedly.

He would usually call in one of his lovers to take his seed in one of her available holes while he listened on and watched the violent depravity visited on the young females. This one, however, he was not planning on sharing until he had his fill.

He had always found American teenager girls to be of a unique spirit as their inherent freedom built them up into a different kind of woman then those raised in his own country. Especially the blondes.

God especially the blondes.

For one thing, the way she had been looking at him, he had somewhat been convinced that she would be untouched once he found his way inside her.

With calm, confident hands, he had sliced through the hem of her black sequined top and laid the knife beside her on the bed to take the fabric in hand.

He could have sliced clean through the top, but he found this method to be both more pleasurable for him while it also seemed to build the fear in her higher than the knife because of the associated sound.

With a violent tug, her shirt had split clean up the middle, showering sequins in all directions as the young American began to beg in earnest.

Until this point she had probably convinced herself that he was simply going to threaten her or fake this menacing action to make a point.

However, exposing her young breasts beneath her laced white bra seemed to be the step that set her mind on this being real as she began to struggle again in earnest.

She recollected him laughing at her begging and pleading as he leaned in close to lick the salty tears from her cheeks and grabbed the knife again, suddenly impatient with the sight of her still wearing too many clothes.

The knife had made short work of the scraps of her shirt and he had tossed them aside before descending on her bra as well.

Once he had disposed of that garment as well, he had descended on her firm breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth while pinching and twisting the other to make her writhe beneath him as she cried out in pain.

Peyton hadn't been able to believe where she had found herself.

The man over her had licked and scraped his teeth along a nipple while his hand tugged at another causing agony to shoot through her.

She hadn't believed just that day she had been complaining about something as mundane as a lumpy mattress as she lay unable to defend herself against anything this man had chosen to do to her. He had an evil glint in his eyes and she knew that he would not be going gently with her.

She remembered asking herself what had she done to deserve such humiliation, such torture? She hadn't done anything that they were accusing her off.

She hadn't even known those men. She'd never in her wildest dream dreamt of that ever happening to her.

She hated that man.

She hated him.

Her distraction with inner thoughts about how she'd never dreamt that moment as happening in such a frightening and disturbing way had left her surprised at the feeling of cool metal against her leg as the man's knife cut through one side of her pants slicing skin, followed by the other until he was able to tug her pants away from her body.

She had looked down to see the man begin immediately cutting through her panties, the last barrier between him and her.

Despite her inclination to avoid being cut or stabbed, she hadn't been able stop herself from attempting to get away from his actions.

Even her most depraved fantasies were with someone she trusted and had that person focused on her pleasure as much as on taking their pleasure from her.

She had never in her wildest dreams fantasized the pain of her pinned arms or the rough hands and mouth on her nipple.

She had never even imagined something as frightening as having the large blade in the man's capable hands cutting away every scrap of fabric on her body and she had trembled in fear instead of the pleasure that greeted her fantasies.

Once she had been bare to him he had taken a moment to appreciate her body as he returned his knife to the sheath on his belt.

Her breasts were firm and while a little on the small side, they were highly responsive to his touch eliciting whimpers and cries her.

He couldn't remember a time when he had been so worked up before he'd even gotten his shirt unbuttoned, but having this obviously strong American teenage girl trembling in fearful anticipation of what he would do to her left him painfully hard in his pants.

She remembered he had reached a hand down to brush across the short hairs of her pussy and watched her twitch in an attempt to get away from him. He'd laughed and her startled moss-green eyes had met his for the first time in the excruciating several minutes that had past.

He had smiled at her and watched as she had been less than reassured at the small smile, while his fingers wedged between her legs and found her center rubbing briskly between her bound legs just long enough to see that fear amplify in her pretty eyes before he had stepped back and began to slowly shed his clothes, watching her eyes follow his leisurely movements.

She hadn't been able to look away from him as his fingers moved deliberately over each button of his jacket before he carefully removed it and draped it casually over the chair back.

Almost like she had been compelled to watch, terrified that she had broken the connection that he would of killed her.

He had continued to take his clothes off in the same slow, deliberate manner as he watched her.

She still hadn't believed she was lying naked and bound in the middle of a luxurious bed as a man she barely knew stripped as if taunting her with his masculinity.

As the clothes peeled away from him, his strength had been revealed in the lean muscles across his chest, the definition in his abs and his strong thighs.

She had found herself admiring his physique despite the desperate situation she had been in and had felt shame wash over her in a hearty blush as he stood before her in only his boxers.

She had only seen the definition of his hardness beneath the thin underwear he had been wearing and that made her want to die right then.

He had watched with a new sense of pride as the young girl stared blatantly at his body.

He didn't think she even realized that her tears had stopped falling, but he could see the desperation in her gaze.

That expression sent a fresh wave of desire through him, making his cock pulse beneath the thin covering of his boxers as his suspicion of her innocence was confirmed.

He couldn't wait any longer to have her and the last article of his clothing was torn down his legs and off with a little more force than the other items had been.

She had gasped as her gaze locked on his cock and he had watched the new sense of fear fill her as she seemed to realize once again that he was going to be putting that part of himself inside of her.

He knew he was larger than most of the men in his unit with the exception of Rodriguez, so he stood proud in front of her and let her look her fill despite his desire to take her and make her scream beneath his touch.

She had whimpered as he grabbed the knife out of his sheath and approached her again.

Somehow, he was more menacing approaching her naked than he had been a moments before.

Perhaps it had been because he was coming at her with the knife despite the fact that she no longer had any clothes for him to remove.

His movements had been swift once he had reached her and she dwelled upon the fact that she had been surprised enough by his quick move in severing the zip tie that had bound her ankles that she hadn't realize that she could've moved until she had heard the clatter of his knife being flung across the room as he'd descended on her body.

She had been shocked to feel the weight of him pressing down on her so suddenly as he'd settled between her legs pushing her thighs apart with his knees as he done so.

Panic had swept through her and she'd tried to buck him off, forcing her shoulders back into the mattress and drawing a fresh pain to her bound wrists. He had easily held her down, arching above her to reach between them to pinch and twist her sensitive nipples.

She'd cried out at the shock of pain and had tried to spin and twist him off of her.

He'd smiled down at her, enjoying the feel of her wiggling against his hot flesh, his cock twitching delightfully against the young woman's hot center.

She was still too dry against his rubbing hardness, so he reached between them and began to tease her clit with a delicate finger as he continued to assault her nipples with his other hand.

He felt her moisten slowly against the underside of his cock as he continued to rub and tease her.

Her eyes had refused to meet his as she'd started to cry anew at her reaction to his touch.

He would've taken her dry to make her scream, but he already knew that she would do that without him subjecting himself to the kind of pain that friction would cause, so he'd delighted in being able to draw this moisture from her, knowing she obviously hated that he could do so.

Her mind fixed on the way he had grinned down at her as his cock rubbed across increasingly wet flesh and he had almost laughed when her hips moved as if out of her control, seeking out his touch.

When she had let out an involuntary moan between whimpers he grinned down at her menacingly and swept his finger in one last light caress against her clit before taking the small bundle of nerves between two fingers and applying enough pressure to have her screaming her protest out into the room.

Watching the beautiful girl writhe in pain beneath him had left him panting right along with her for an entirely different purpose.

He'd shifted his hips against her struggling legs and released his hold on her clit to take his cock in his hand and run it along the moistened flesh between her thighs.

Her eyes had snapped to his panic stricken as fresh tears had fallen and her begging had begun again, "Please, you don't have to do this. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to." she had whimpered as he rubbed the head of his cock along her opening, up to her clit and back down again, truth was she hadn't even known what she had done to these men, they had the wrong goddamn girl or had it been some sick way of pleasuring themselves?."

"Please no, don't do this." she had begged as he'd grinned down at her, easily overpowering her struggles and slipping the head of his cock into her tight passage.

It felt divine. She was wet enough to allow entry, but so tight that he was worried he wouldn't be able to get his full length into her hot little body.

She'd screamed in frustration and agony as he'd groaned his pleasure for the moment.

She hadn't been able to handle the fact that it had be happening to her.

She hadn't wanted to handle it. He had actually managed to coax her into enjoying some aspect of this violation and then he'd brutally reminded her that it wasn't about her at all. She hadn't been able to stop the tears, nor could she fight the begging and pleading that had poured from her mouth.

He'd simply hovered above her with a grimace that looked like pain on his face and she was momentarily glad that she'd possibly brought a little pain back on him for what he had been doing to her.

His words had made her shake with frustration at her short lived sense of victory.

"You are so tight." he'd intoned in his heavy accent, "you feel magnificent around me. I cannot wait to bury my cock deep in your desperate little pussy." Her theory that he been experiencing some pain in it was shot and she'd resorted back to the begging.

He'd laughed off her pleas and had leaned his weight into her.

She'd felt her flesh stretch painfully around his invasion and couldn't stop herself from looking down.

She had been surprised to see that so little of him had entered her and then his forward progress had stopped.

'You're so fucking sexy' He'd watched her wince at his course language and pulled his cock back out until just the head rested in her opening before sliding the minimal distance into her barrier again as he'd fought the urge to plow violently into her and fuck her until he couldn't see straight.

He had laughed lightly, "You know, I have a hard time not hurting girls with experience." he'd watched her eyes widen even more so, something he didn't think was possible.

"I can't wait to hear you scream as I come in your sweet pussy."

"No!" she'd shouted at him, squirming again as if it would've done any good.

"Please, you can't do this to me. You have to stop. Please."

He'd pulled back out to the head of his cock and had listened to her plea for him to stop some more.

He'd knew the more she begged, the louder she'd scream for him and he just wondered if he could bring her down to his level by ramping up the pleasure she had felt earlier until she came.

He couldn't imagine how exquisitely tight she would feel if she pulsed in release around his cock.

It wouldn't hurt that she would feel a distinct betrayal towards her own baser instincts if he was able to do that.

He knew it wouldn't be the first time because he had been already on the precipice of shooting off at any given moment and he wouldn't have lasted long if his whole cock was put under the pressure the head of it was feeling in that moment.

"You're right." he had finally responded as he'd pulled back a little more, her pussy gripping the ridge around the head of his shaft as if unwilling to let him go. More like unable to. "I'm sorry. This was wrong."

The relief that had swept her features almost made him laugh before he lunged forward, tearing through her pussy and sinking nearly two thirds of his cock into her on a single thrust.

Her scream had split the air as her relief had been replaced with the pain and shock of the moment.

She'd screamed from the pain of his brutal assault.

She had actually believed he had a change of heart, actually believed that something she'd said had made a difference. His words and threats had horrified her and she couldn't explain why she had believed he was capable of second thoughts, but she had sudden faith in his apology, but he'd ripped her hope away as quickly as he'd ripped through her vagina.

She'd felt as if she were being torn in two as he'd pulled out again and gave another powerful thrust into her body.

He'd groaned at the feeling of being squeezed so deliciously inside the tight flesh of her.

His cock was in heaven and he hadn't even made it all the way inside her slowly yielding flesh.

He'd watched between their bodies as he'd slowly pulled out again, feeling the tight channel of her pussy gripping his shaft as if unwilling to let it go.

He'd almost laughed at that train of thought, because if her sounds and struggling were anything to go by, the opposite was true.

This American teen had wanted nothing more than to get him out of her body.

It was with satisfaction that he had spotted the slight pink tinge of his skin that signaled the blood of her tightness on his cock a moment before he'd put some extra force behind his next thrust. He'd watched himself finally disappear fully inside the newly plundered depths of this young squealing girl.

She had been panting then, apparently fighting the urge to scream more as she'd looked up at him with a determination she hadn't had a few moments before.

He'd almost admired the proud look on her face as tears leaked silently out the corners of her eyes and she seemed to silently project that she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream again.

He'd ground his pelvis against hers, making sure to rub against her clit as he further established his dominance over her by drawing her attention to just how far he was within the depths of her body.

She had cringed beneath him, but hadn't cried out as he'd ground against her a couple more times slowly.

He had smirked when he'd stopped the slow grinding with several quick fierce thrusts that jolted the small body beneath his and had torn a shaky gasp and a whimper from her.

Her breasts had shook with each powerful thrust and he had been almost tempted to continue at the quick, brutal pace until she was left a sobbing broken mess, dripping tears and cum, but he wanted her to be broken mentally, not physically.

If he had broken her sweet pussy, he wouldn't be getting back into it once he'd finished, but if he had broken her strong will, she would've begged him to come back again and again.

He had deliberately slowed his thrusts again and taken a moment to savor the tight heat.

He was so focused on the feelings registering in his cock that he knew the instant her passage became slick with her registering a reaction to his attention.

Her face had flamed with shame as the pain between her legs eased and she had felt a sensation that she use to get when she had sex with Jake, and hell even Nathan. Far from excited about the prospect of finding pleasure from the brutality of this man, she had begun to struggle anew.

The man's smile as he'd watched her reaction had made her stomach clench with a new sensation and she'd began to sob again while the man continued to pierce her body.

He hadn't been able to believe he had held out as long as he had as he fucked the pretty little thing in front of him.

The only reason he hadn't shot his load was shear willpower and the dark desire to own this girl in such a way that she would never look at fucking the same way again. He'd wanted her to remember that the best orgasm of her life had been at his behest.

He had reached a hand between their bodies to stroke her clit as he'd continued to thrust into her body, hoping to hurry her along with manual stimulation.

He had run out of willpower and he was running low on control.

He was shocked into a gasp of near pain when she had suddenly shouted in a completely different tone than her hollers for release and her tight pussy clamped down so snug around him that he didn't have to fight to control his release, he wouldn't have been able to in that moment if he had tried.

The pressure on his cock eased and clenched again while the tight pussy pulsed as she climaxed from his attentions.

She knew that he saw the shame in her eyes as she turned her head away from him to prevent looking him in the eyes as she had panted and moaned, riding the waves of her release.

Once he had succeeded in that goal, it was like he was released to obtain his own goals.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed that, my beautiful angel." he had told her, watching her flinch again at his reference to her in such an endearing manner.

He had made a note to figure out more names that would unsettle her.

"Now, I'm going to cum in this sweet little pussy of yours. " Her eyes had met his again, pleading silently. He had merely shook his head in response.

"Oh, honey, you know you want to take it all, you want to feel me fill your hot cunt with my seed."

"Please. YOU CAN'T" she had cried as his pace increased again, slamming into her and shaking the words from her mouth as she spoke.

"No, please, no. You have to stop; you have to take it out of me."

He had laughed that time, reaching a hand under her body and groping around to feel the wetness of her climax had reached the bed beneath her.

Without slowing his thrusts, he found her puckered hole and without warning he'd shoved a finger up into her ass.

She had screamed again, but this time he didn't find the same satisfaction in that painful scream.

He'd craved the other, breathier scream she had released as she'd came on his dick.

"I could come here instead." he had teased, his thrust in her pussy forcing his finger further into her ass.

She had already been shaking her head, fresh tears falling as he'd fucked her harder, feeling his climax drawing ever closer.

"Please, just stop. Oh, God, you have to stop."

She had cried again, that time with a beautiful flush to her skin that spoke of his complete ownership over her.

'No!' She had shrieked and with a new found strength she had grabbed the solid see no evil statue on his cabinet and rammed it into his fucking skull.

The man had let out a guttural groan before crumpling to the floor.

And seeing that as her free opportunity she had untied herself and fled, completely bare and covered in her own blood as well as bodily fluids.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

She had been lucky she had made it past the other men without being seen, God had definitely been on her side that night. But why had God let that happen to her?

That event had occurred two days ago prior.

She had managed to make her escape and when she came to a nearby house in the middle of nowhere she had screamed bloody murder, banging on the door with the remaining amount of strength that she had, banging desperately until it opened.

She didn't care who the person was…when the elderly couple had opened the door she had flung herself into the old man's arms and started crying hysterically.

Screaming sobs and they had let her into their home instantly.

Giving her fresh clothes to wear, a blanket and hot chocolate. She remembered the hot chocolate especially it was milk - all milk -with two heaped spoons of a mixture that contained real cocoa.

Laced with flavoring and sugar, she would've much rather just had milk with a dash of vanilla than that junk.

But she was in no position to be complaining, she was still in too much shock.

She had begged them not to call the cops and told them that she lived in North Carolina and needed to get home right away.

They hadn't asked questions simply nodded their heads, and gave her a bed for the night. And only the following morning had they begun the road trip back to Tree Hill, She had hugged the old lady thanking her for everything.

But the burden and secret was still hers to bare. when they had rolled away she remembered smelling the distinct smell of lavender.

And it had stuck with her like superglue to the brain. God she hated that smell. She couldn't rid that dirty feeling even if she tried.

It was like having dirt underneath her fingernails, except the dirt was everywhere.

Especially inside her. No amount of soap could get that filth off, no matter how hard she scrubbed.

The elderly man had let her borrow his phone and the first thing she had done was phoned Nate, her then best friend. She could still hear the conversation right now.

' _ **Hey Sawyer, where are you at. Brooke got back to the hotel room and said that you weren't there. Were all worried sick'**_

It had taken all of the strength she had in her not to break down right there and then.

' _ **I had to cut out…'**_

She had excused. She had told him that she went had taken a bus home because she just didn't want to be there anymore.

But that was before she told him that she didn't want any more to do with Lucas, Brooke, him or Haley. She didn't keep him on the line long enough to hear his response, and she didn't care.

It was like she had shut herself off emotionally.

Numbness.

Yes, numbness was the word.

She felt nothing.

She was catatonic.

Once the elderly man had dropped her at her home after much instruction.

She had thanked him shortly and walked robotically to her house without a side ward glance before disappearing behind her front door.

And it was then and only then that the tears came. And she broke down in the hallway in the safety of her home.

And now she remained the same, she hadn't moved from her spot on her bed for forty-eight hours, hadn't dared to show her face to the outside world in fear that everyone was in on it.

She just sat there as straight up as a board, eyes devoid of any emotion and just staring…at nothing in particular.

The house was locked from the inside, hell even her scarlet bedroom with weird drawings on the wall was locked.

And all because she was paranoid that those men would somehow track her down and finish the job.

Lucas had tried to come around the day before but she hadn't moved from her spot just sat there motionless. Like an ornament frozen in time, caring less about the boy banging behind the locked door.

And not a single bit of music playing.

Lucas Scott was many things but he was not stupid and he would figure out that there was something wrong eventually, Lucas was always torturing himself about her, always wanting to save her.

Well he couldn't save her now…not from this. Not after that.

But she couldn't risk it, she had school on Monday, and she going to push it to the back of her mind because as far as she was concerned it didn't happen.

Because that was what Peyton Sawyer did best.

Pretend.

 **Author's Note: I know this is really intense, but even still I'll ask the question, does anyone want another chapter? Any requests for what she should do next if there is a next? Can you tell I'm nervous beyond belief to be posting this? Yes, it's true. Not my first time writing, but my first posting on Fanfiction, so go easy on me when you review and if you're just going to spout hate, please refrain from reviewing at all. Rape is serious and it's real. Please Review.**

 **Thank you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers : Chapter 2**

Title: With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers

Author(s): Blondiiee

Pairing/Characters: Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer

Rating: M

Warnings: heavy sexual situations

Summary: What was once simple, is now complex. What Peyton once loved—who she once loved—she now hates. What she thought she knew to be true, is now lies. Nothing makes sense anymore, and she knows she's supposed to tell someone what happened but she can't. So she buries it instead. And she buries the way she used to be. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason.

 **Chapter 2**

The return back to school had come around faster than Peyton would have liked. She had seven new note-books, a skirt she hated, and a stomachache.

The school bus had wheezed to her corner. The doors had opened and she had stepped up, she saw no point in taking her Comet. She felt almost unworthy to be driving a car that her mother had held so dearly to her heart. She had come to the decision that the car would be driven once she could rid the filth from her body.

She was the first pickup of the day. The driver pulled away from the curb while she stood in the aisle. Where to sit? She'd never been a backseat waste-ease. If she sat in the middle, a stranger could sit next to her.

If she sat in the front, it would make her look like a little kid, but she figured it was the best chance she had to avoid eye contact with one of her friends, if any of them had decided to try and talk to her yet yet.

She knew that she didn't have to worry about the main four though, they no doubt had their own rides to school.

The bus picked up students in groups of four or five. As they had walked down the aisle, she had recognized the people as her high-school lab partners or gym buddies glare at her.

She closed her eyes.

This was what she had been dreading. No doubt had Brooke hurt by her actions turned everyone against her, and that she had expected.

As they left the last stop, she realized that she was the only person sitting alone. It hadn't bothered her though, she hadn't wanted anyone near her. The driver downshifted to drag the bus over the hills.

The engine clanking, which made the guys in the back holler something obscene. Someone was wearing too much cologne.

She had tried to open her window, but the little latches hadn't moved.

A guy behind her had unwrapped his breakfast and shot the wrapper at the back of her head. It bounced into her lap — a Ho-Ho. The bus passed janitors painting over the sign in front of her high school.

The school board had decided that "Tree Hill High — Home of the Raven" didn't send a strong abstinence message, so they had transformed them into just the Ravens.

Better the Raven you know than that mouthful of a name she guessed.

The school colors had stayed blue, black and white.

The board didn't want to spring for new uniforms.

Older students were allowed to roam until the bell, but eleventh- graders like herself were herded into the auditorium.

Falling into clans: Jocks, Basketball players, Country Clubbers, Idiot Savants, Cheerleaders, Human Waste, Eurotrash, Future Fascists of America, Big Hair Chix, the Marthas, Clean Teans, Suffering Artists, Thespians, Goths, Shredders. And she was now officially clanless.

She sure as hell wasn't cheerleading anymore, she didn't want anyone to view any part of her skin.

She had wasted the last two days of watching bad cartoons and sitting like a wax statue in her bedroom, reliving that moment over and over again in her head.

And at times when it got to much for her and the memory would completely overwhelm her she had, she had locked herself in her closet and compulsively scratched the back of her neck, trying to make the outside hurt more than her insides did.

She didn't go to the mall, the lake, or even the Rivercourt, or answer the phone.

She had entered school with the wrong hair, the wrong clothes, the wrong attitude. And officially didn't have anyone to hang around with anymore.

She was Outcast. Ridiculed by the whole school and probably even Lucas as well.

Although the blond haired blue eyed Scott had been the least of her worries at the minute.

Once inside the building she had wasted no time looking for her ex-friends.

Her clan, the populars a.k.a cheerleaders and basketball player, had splintered and the pieces were being absorbed by rival factions, the only ones that had toughed each other out was Lucas, Brooke, Rachel, Haley, Mouth and Skills.

Bevin now lounged with the Jocks, comparing scars from summer league sports.

Avery floated between the Suffering Artists on one side of the aisle and the Thespians on the other.

She had enough personality to travel with two packs. Chase had moved to Nevada. No real loss.

He was mostly Brooke's friend, anyway as well as ex. The kids behind her laughed so loud that it made her leap out of her skin, she knew they were laughing about her.

She couldn't help herself. She turned around. It was Brooke, surrounded by Nathan, Haley, Rachel...

Lucas.

The girls were wearing clothes that most definitely did not come from the East Side Mall. Lucas though just looked at her. staring at something above her left ear. Words climbed up her throat.

This was the boy who she had been in love with ever since he had fixed her car, who didn't make fun of her bedroom but had found it beautiful.

If there was anyone in the entire galaxy she was dying to tell what really happened, it was Lucas. Her throat begun to burn.

But she was afraid. Afraid of not being believed.

But she knew that she couldn't. It wasn't an option, he'll just hurt her again right? And She can't handle taking herself back there again because she would full apart. His eyes met hers for a second.

And he turned his back to her and laughed with his friends. She should've known that him especially wouldn't take her cutting them out her life of lightly.

In all honesty she had no choice but to return to cheerleading, she had to make things go back to normal so that nobody would ask questions.

She bit her lip.

She was not going to think about it. It was ugly, but it was over, and she was not going to think about it.

Her lip started to bleed a little. It tasted like metal. She needed to sit down. She stood in the center aisle of the auditorium, a wounded zebra in a National Geographic special, looking for someone, any- one, to sit next to. A predator approaches: gray jock buzz cut, whistle around a neck thicker than his head. Probably a social studies teacher, hired to coach a blood sport. Where the hell was Whitey?

"Sit." He had instructed and she had grabbed a seat. Another wounded zebra had turned and smiled at me.

She was packing at least five grand worth of orthodontia, but had great shoes. "I'm Heather from Ohio," she said. "I'm new here. Do you know where the English corridor is?" She didn't have time to answer. The lights dimmed and the indoctrination begun.

It was a bunch of rules that she had heard before, a year prior. They did this for the induction day of all the new students. But even students that attended there before hand had to stay and listen.

THE FIRST EIGHT LIES THEY TELL YOU IN HIGH SCHOOL

1\. We are here to help you.

2\. No smoking is allowed on school grounds.

3\. Our basketball team will win the championship this year. (one truth)

4\. We expect more of you, you are seniors now.

5\. Guidance counselors are always available to listen.

6\. Your new schedule was created with your needs in mind.

7\. Your locker combination is private.

8\. These will be the years you look back on fondly.

Her first class was biology.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

It hadn't been hard to find, she knew the room like the back of her hand. It was 8:50 in the morning.

Only 410 days and 7 class periods until graduation.

Once settled behind her desk. She had pulled the hood of her baggy hoodie over her blond spirals, in an attempt to hide from the world.

Then had laid her head in her arms on the desk, ashamed. Good thing her lips were stitched together or she'd throw up.

Ashamed of being her, ashamed of being alive.

It hurt to sit down, or to even walk. She was raw with physical pain as well as emotional.

Her Biology teacher Miss O'dell had no face. She had uncombed stringy hair that drooped on her shoulders. The hair was black from her part to her ears and then neon orange to the frizzy ends. She couldn't decide whether she had pissed off her hairdresser or was morphing into a monarch butterfly.

She called her Hairwoman. Hairwoman wasted twenty minutes taking attendance because she wouldn't look at the class.

She kept her head bent over her desk so the hair flopped in front of her face.

She kind of reminded Peyton of Michael Myers. She would normally spend the rest of the class writing on the board and speaking to the flag about their required reading.

She wanted them to write in their class journals every day, but promised not to read them.

Peyton always wrote about how weird she was. 'Okay class if you could start writing in your journals, it's just a little exercise to get the brain working' she had hardly been listening, she had merely kept her head on the desk. Closing herself off.

She closed her eyes and tuned the noise of the room out.

But the more she found herself relaxing a little, the more she begun to think and the thinking was the dangerous part.

Memories were the soul torturer of her.

She couldn't escape them, or hide from them; they were the worst kind of monster.

They were pin point needles, piercing her skin. She couldn't scream or fight back, she had to just endure the pain as the picture of his face flashed through her mind.

 _ **"No!" she'd shouted at him, squirming again as if it would've done any good.**_

 _ **"Please, you can't do this to me. You have to stop. Please."**_

 _ **"You're right." he had finally responded as he'd pulled back a little more, her pussy gripping the ridge around the head of his shaft as if unwilling to let him go. More like unable to. "I'm sorry. This was wrong."**_

 _ **The relief that had swept her features almost made him laugh before he lunged forward, tearing through her pussy and sinking nearly two thirds of his cock into her on a single thrust.**_

 _ **Her scream had split the air as her relief had been replaced with the pain and shock of the moment.**_

 _ **She'd screamed from the pain of his brutal assault. She had actually believed he had a change of heart, actually believed that something she'd said had made a difference.**_

 _ **His words and threats had horrified her and she couldn't explain why she had believed he was capable of second thoughts, but she had sudden faith in his apology, but he'd ripped her hope away as quickly as he'd ripped through her vagina.**_

 _ **She'd felt as if she were being torn in two as he'd pulled out again and gave another powerful thrust into her body.**_

 _ **He'd groaned at the feeling of being squeezed so deliciously inside the tight flesh of her. His cock was in heaven and he hadn't even made it all the way inside her slowly yielding flesh.**_

God she had done nothing wrong, they had wrongly assumed she had been someone else.

She had never encountered those men in her life until that night.

She was roused from her thoughts when a hand had touched, her and the skin to skin contact had made her leap from her seat, quite literally.

"Peyton what's the matter?" she had not realized how erratically she had been breathing, cold beads forming on her forehead.

It took her a while to realize where she was, it was like she was in survival mode. "I. I'm sorry. I just. I don't..." she was stopped short by the gaze of fellow students, especially those of Lucas and the gang.

"I don't really feel well can I go to the medical room?" she had pleaded with her eyes, but Hairwoman had flat out refused her and she had been forced back into her seat. Powerless to do anything about it and embarrassed.

Before she knew it she had found herself at her locker after social studies.

The lock still got stuck a little, but she could open it.

She dived into the stream of fourth-period lunch students and swam down the hall to the cafeteria.

The hot lunch was turkey with reconstituted dried mashed potatoes and gravy, a damp green vegetable, and a cookie.

She hadn't ordered anything though, she hadn't been able to eat if she tried, when she ate she just threw it up, her body couldn't handle it. But an eight-foot senior in front of her somehow got three cheeseburgers, French fries, and two Ho-Hos without saying a word. Some sort of Morse code with his eyes, maybe. Must study this further. She followed the Basketball Pole into the cafeteria. And saw a few friends — people she used to think were her friends — but they looked away.

Think fast, think fast. There was that new girl, Heather, reading by the window.

She could sit across from her. Or she could crawl behind a trash can.

Or maybe she could run right on out the door.

She watched as Skills waved over to Lucas, Nathan and Brooke and Haley a bizarre greeting practiced by athletic boys. He smiled and threw a Holler.

Maybe they wouldn't notice her if she stood still. That's how rabbits survived; they froze in the presence of predators.

Just as she started moving.

Thwap! A lump of potatoes and gravy hit her square in the center of her chest. All conversation stopped as the entire lunch- room gawked, her face burning into their retinas.

The Football Pole apologized and said something else, but four hundred people exploded into laughter and she couldn't read their lips.

Her emerald eyes widened in desperation as they shot to her former friends who were the only ones not laughing, especially Lucas his face had taken on a hard edge his eyes holding something she didn't quite recognized.

She ditched and bolted for the door, tears burning behind her eyes.

She motored so fast out of the lunchroom the track coach would have drafted her for varsity if he were around.

But no, Mr. Neck had cafeteria duty.

And Mr. Neck had no use for girls who could run the one hundred in under ten seconds, unless they were willing to do it while holding on to a football.

"Peyton" she knew it was a male voice but it didn't quite register who the voice belonged to and so she sprinted faster, until a strong hand gripped onto her fore arm and she jerked away.

Because that skin to skin contact was something that would always haunt the hell out of her for as long as she walked this earth.

She landed on the linoleum floor with a grunt, her face hitting the surface so hard that she saw stars.

But she didn't feel the pain, she wished to god that she had. But all she felt was complete numbness.

She felt the strong arms band around her waist, lifting her to her feet gently yet with an incredible kind of strength and she was in survival mode again instantly.

She lashed out, all nails trying to scratch the person who had touched her away, blinded by an undeniable fear that had all her rational thinking flying out the window.

"Peyt hey it's me" it was then a sense of familiarity crept through her, and she turned slowly to face the person.

Her breaths shallow as the fight left her.

Her face flushed red and tears stinging her eyes.

There he stood in all his Lucas Scott hero glory. His hair the perfect shade of dirt blond, messy but the right kind of messy. And his eyes shined so impossibly blue that she would have believed he had his own sky inside of him. She straightened herself, putting her walls up.

Putting up a front, if she acted normal then it would all be fine. She could move on with her life, right?

"What do you want Lucas?" she asked trying to keep her voice even.

She watched his eyes flicker to the stain on her hoodie. Before they locked intensely on hers again looking into her soul, normally that would've made her heart speed up to one hundred, her knees weak, palms sweaty, a blush on her cheeks to follow.

However this time though it made her feel physically sick and that same filthy feeling from earlier crept down her body like droplets on an icy window pane.

"You haven't been returning my calls, when I try to come round your doors locked...your doors never locked Peyton what's going on.

And you've decided to cut me out of you life. Why, what did I do Peyton?" the series of questions had made her feel dizzy.

And she shook her head mutely casting her eyes to the floor abruptly.

 ** _"You don't understand"_** her head voice answered. Too bad he couldn't hear it.

Her throat squeezed shut, as if two hands of black fingernails were clamped on her windpipe. She had worked so hard to forget every second of that stupid night, and here she was face to face with whether a lover or a friend.

And she couldn't tell him what really happened. She couldn't even look at that part of herself.

An animal noise rustled in her stomach.

"Why would you think anything was going on?" she asked forcing her eyes back up to his and folding her arms across her chest in an attempt to look strong.

"I don't know. You haven't seemed yourself lately Peyton or at least not the Peyton I remember" her eyes widened at him, a hint of anger starting to take control of her emotions.

"How would you know, you've not been around...your always with Brooke or with the rest of the group.

You acted like I didn't exist after you and Brooke got back together. What the hell changed?" her voice rose an octave as she got more worked up and she watched his jaw tighten like it had earlier.

"Look..." Lucas begun as he extended out a hand to touch her cheek but she had flinched immediately taking a step away from him. His brows creased in confusion.

"Don't. touch. me" she spoke the words spilling from her mouth like poison.

"Peyton..." he tried again and she freaked.

"DON'T" she paused for a moment to collect herself. "DON'T YOU DARE!" She squawked as she shoved hard at his chest and watched him stumble back.

His features showed pain and anger. She stiffened as he took what she thought was a threatening step towards her, but stood her ground. Staring at him with the same fiery passion that reflected in his soulful blues. But little did she know it was because he cared about her and wanted to save her.

It was frustrating the hell out of him.

"Why are you being like this?" his tone was serious and quiet although the corridor was virtually empty.

His height was intimidating to her and she didn't like the feeling of him being so close to her. She had to remind herself that it was just Lucas.

"I'm not I just don't want you touching me, you have a girlfriend remember" the words tumbled from her mouth against her will and she didn't know whether or not her brain had set up some sort of coping method which was to push him away and piss him off.

"Can we just forget about Brooke for a second Peyton, I...I'm worried about you" he admitted and she didn't feel herself soften like she thought she would.

"Well do me a favor and stop it" she spat before turning on her heels to run, she felt tears start to pool in her eyes.

They wouldn't fall though, they never did. She was incapable of crying and she would have to get use to being a woman of steel.

So she would accept it. If it mean't that it was the only way of her surviving this.

Bunny Rabbit bolted, leaving fast tracks in the mud once outside. Getaway getaway getaway. Why hadn't she run like this before when she was a one-piece talking girl? Running made her feel like she was eleven years old and fast. She burned a strip up the parking lot, When she stopped, a brand-new thought exploded in her head:

Why go to school?

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

When she got home she went straight to her bedroom. Her safe haven. She had screamed to let out the animal noise and some of that fateful night.

She couldn't sleep after her day at school. Again. She had spent a couple hours tuning AM radio to the weird bounces of night. She listened to Linoleum from NOFX mostly because it reminded her of Luke, a farm report from Minnesota, and a country station in Nashville.

She had crawled out of her window onto the porch roof and wrapped herself in all her blankets.

A fat white seed slept in the sky.

People say that summer lasts forever, but it was because they obsessed over the thermometer.

North in the mountains, the maple syrup was trickling.

Brave geese drunk from the lake. Underground, seeds rolled over in their sleep.

Starting to get restless. Starting to dream green. The moon looked closer back in August.

When it started to get a little chilly, she decided to climb back in a try doing a drawing. Anything to keep her awake. Anything to stop herself Her room was the only place she felt safe.

She hummed and didn't worry about how stupid it made her feel. Lines just lines. It was frustrating. But she tried. One-two- three, one-two-three. She didn't worry about the next day or minute. One-two-three.

Her Punk N Disorderly sight was temporarily deactivated, so she didn't have to worry about being seen. She could just continue being unseen.

Her head flicked up when her light bulb flickered. And she swore for a second that IT was there. The beast, the monster from her worst nightmares.

Little rabbit heart leaped out of her chest and scampered across the paper, leaving bloody footprints on her roots. Then the light flickered back on again and she realized that she was just in her room. But she could smell him.

Have to find out where he got that cologne.

She knows for a fact that it's called Fear. This was turning into one of those repeating nightmares where you keep falling but never hit the floor.

Only she felt like she had just smacked into the ground at a hundred miles an hour.

She sat completely still. The smell choking her. She felt herself shiver.

She crushed her jaws together so hard her teeth crumbled to dust. She was a deer frozen in the headlights of a tractor trailer.

She needed to do something, needed to make that feeling disappear. She got up from her desk, walked across the rug, and into her closet without even thinking.

She was on autopilot. When she closed the closet door behind her, She buried her face into the clothes on the left side of the rack, clothes that hadn't fit for years.

She stuffed her mouth with old fabric and screamed until there was no sounds left under her skin.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hi I understand that some of you were confused about the first chapter so i'm just going to hash that out. At the beginning of Chapter 1 Peyton is making her way down to the concert lounge as part of celebration for the Ravens winning the away game. When she walk down the empty corridor to get to the lift, she bends to tie her shoe because it has come undone. It's a silly reason but Peyton feels that she is to blame for being raped and that she should've been more aware, so that was what I wanted to highlight in that part. The men had been tailing her but she hadn't known until they came at her which I'm sorry if I didn't make very clear. Also another thing that it was just a weekend but because Brooke was hurt she made rumours about Peyton which will become apparent in the other chapter and also because its happened to Peyton she feels like an Outcast.**

 **I am confirming that the men do think Peyton was someone else, but because Peyton is in shock at what's happening to her and she starts to convince herself that maybe she did do something wrong. That maybe she was being punished for a reason. Since she was raped on a bed, on the cabinet that was where the see no evil statue was. The see no evil statue (also known as the three wise monkey's) is symbolic because it consists of three monkeys. All three each covering apart of their bodies. One is holding it's ears, the other it's eyes and the third it's mouth.** **I thought that it would be symbolic to use because in the Western world the phrase is often used to refer to those who deal with impropriety by turning a blind eye.** **As to why to Peyton was kidnapped you will have to find she got kidnapped that will be found out later on in the story. Sorry. :)**

 **The next chapter will be from Lucas' point of view so we can get a look and see what's going on inside his pretty blond head. And his thoughts and feelings.**

 **Thanks.**


	3. Chapter 3

**With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers : Chapter 3**

Title: With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers

Author(s): Blondiiee

Pairing/Characters: Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer

Rating: M

Warnings: heavy sexual situations

Summary: What was once simple, is now complex. What Peyton once loved—who she once loved—she now hates. What she thought she knew to be true, is now lies. Nothing makes sense anymore, and she knows she's supposed to tell someone what happened but she can't. So she buries it instead. And she buries the way she used to be. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason.

 **Chapter 3**

A loud and desperate rapping on his screen door echoed through the house and garnered both Lucas and Brooke's attention. The pair had simultaneously been enduring in their daily make out sesh on his bed and Lucas had been more than thankful for that interruption, since he found himself not able to keep his full attention on the dark haired beauty before him.

Against his better judgement his mind could not stop wandering to his lonely blond friend.

 _ **Friend**._

The word made him want to rip the skin from his face.

Everyone knew that Peyton Sawyer and Lucas Scott could never remain friends without crossing way past that invisible barrier that separated friends from true love.

Deep down even Lucas knew that the majority of them were right. But he just refused to believe it. Him and Peyton were just friends, anyone would say that their relationship was poignant because anyone that was everyone could see how strongly the two canaries felt for each other.

But Brooke Davis was his girlfriend. She was fun, amazingly pretty and had a heart of gold yet if crossed she would become a person's worst nightmare. She was malicious and spiteful when she wanted to be and she had proven that today when she had spread rumors that Peyton had tried to break them up.

Peyton.

There she was again a constant thought in his mind, something that he would never quite be able to shake.

He needed to know why she had acted the way she had earlier, and not just when he had chased after her but in the classroom as well.

He had been watching her closely and she seemed unhinged, like she was terrified just being in the school environment.

Something wasn't right and he was dead set on finding out what was going on with her.

He was taken out of his thoughts when Brooke hungrily yanked his face back down to hers and he barely responded. In fact he pulled away to sit up on his bed.

"What is it?" she asked as she heaved to catch her breath.

"Somebody's at the door" he declared.

"So ignore it, I wanna make out with my boyfriend" she purred as she rose up on her knees to try and wrap her arms around him but he wrenched free almost sending her tumbling off of his bed. Lucas didn't say anything, he didn't have too. All it took was one look for her to know where this conversation was about to go.

"Is this about Peyton again?" he flinched at the annoyance laced within her tone. The words coming from her mouth like poison. What else would it be about. It always came back to Peyton after all.

"I'm worried about her Brooke" he admitted swallowing thickly.

"When are you not worried about her?" she raged as she got to her feet and pulled down her black cami that had previously been hitched up. He raked a hand through his short blond hair. He was always worried about her, he would stay up until the crack of the dawn sometimes sick with anxiety and covered in cold beads of sweat after nightmares about her dying or getting injured in some way. Last night he had been awake for most of the night, tossing and turning with worry about what the next day would bring. When fatigue had finally shut his eyes for him, he felt himself falling into the world of twisted dreams, until once again he had, had a familiar nightmare.

In it he had been standing over the Molina Bridge. The water was the color of dark tea.

It was ghost like in the slight breeze. The luminous eyes of owls had peered at him with suspicion through darkness as he drifted closer and closer to the water.

And then he heard her scream.

Crying out his name in trepidation.

And he had found himself wailing for her also. It was like a scream straight out of a Wes Craven movie. Real. Raw.

And when he cast his eyes down to the bank he'd seen the silhouette of what he could only describe as a demon forcing her under the water, he'd tried to move his feet but they had been glued to the spot and he could only watch on in terror and frenzied distress as he fought with all he had to get to her.

And it was then and only then that his eyes had snapped open to see the morning sunlight seeping in around the curtains to light up his dim room.

He was aware of Brooke pouring her heart out to him but he honestly hadn't been listening to a word that had come from her mouth.

Had she always been so self obsessed?

The knocking came again, louder and more frantic.

He hurried down the stairs leaving Brooke to talk to the air and through the narrow hallway that ran straight from the rear of the house to the front door. The sight of his younger brother Nathan Scott's face with his nose against the screen stopped him dead in his tracks and turned his feet to lead. He looked as white as a water lily, his coffee black hair wild and eyes full of terror.

Once the initial shock wore of Lucas stepped up to the door and let him in.

"Nate what the hell?" he queried his brows furrowing as he took in the sight of his visibly shaken brother.

"It's Peyton" Nate uttered his voice quivering slightly and Lucas didn't have to hear anymore he bolted out of the door. A far more frightening and unpleasant feeling overwhelming him.

A strong breeze had kicked up behind the thick layers of dark clouds that enclosed them like a shroud, hiding the quarter moon and stars in the September North Carolina sky. This year Autumn was more like summer.

The days and nights were so hot and humid he had found mildew on his shoes in the morning. At noon the sun would make the goldenrod glisten and drove the gnats and flies into a frenzy to find cool shade. He felt his knuckles burn as he gripped the steering wheel. He had practically interrogated Nathan on the whole drive to Peyton's house, choking on his own dread. Nathan had told him that he had seen Peyton sitting on her roof in tears and he thought that she could possibly harm herself.

The gravel path towards her house stretched and turned ahead, but at the pace they were keeping. Peyton's cypress wood house now bleached a grey-white patina, soon loomed before them.

He almost pulled the door of it's hinges getting out.

From where he stood he could see that her bedroom light was still on but the silence in itself chilled him. His expression of sorrow and fear turned to one of hope.

He begun to move forward tearing up her front path, and when he reached the door to his horror it was locked again.

He turned frantically to Nathan whose blue eyes were wide with perturbation.

"We have to break it down. BREAK IT!" Nathan gushed out, tripping up on his words from apprehensiveness.

Together the two Scott brothers kicked at the door. Hellbent on proceeding into the house and frustrated with their futile attempts to gain entry, they both planted one foot on the ground, grasped the door frame and thrust the other foot with all the might they could muster and slammed it into the door with loud yells...hoping to unhinge the door from its frame. The door began to rattle, and the center began to bulge slightly with each blow.

The knob looked as if it would pop out, and dust puffed out from the frame, which started to separate from the wall and finally it budged flinging open to reveal the hallway and stairs.

The pair of them rushed upstairs and went directly to her bedroom.

She lay there, her eyes closed. Her usually rosy face ashen, her blond hair spread out over the pillow. Lucas fixed his gaze on Peyton and stared hard as if looking for a sign.

But she was just...

Sleeping.

His eyes cut sharply towards Nate and just as he predicted the corners of his mouth were turned up in one of his grins, the pride radiating off of him, almost tangible. He'd finally proven the extent Lucas would go to save Peyton, and he knew he'd never hear the end of it.

"Nate what the hell was this?" He barked pointedly but somehow not loud enough to wake her.

Nathan was quiet for a moment obviously choosing what he would say carefully.

"Look man I just wanted to see what you'd do, but I honestly was worried about her I saw her on the roof" he spoke pointing to the open window as evidence.

Lucas's face darkened and that same fear from earlier crept back up on him, had Peyton really been trying to kill herself? What reason did she have?

"It's not a funny joke Nate, I thought she was..." he stopped himself before he could say anymore. Nathan flashed his gaze on him with a look of suspicion, he had, had it ever since Lucas had been involved with the curly blond. Knowing that Lucas was coming around there often to check in on her, he was scrutinizing him even more closely.

"Well now that we know Sawyer's ok let's head back, I'm sure you and Brooke were having fun given your appearance when you answered the door" Lucas felt his jaw clench and rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he had.

"You go ahead I'll be out there in a minute I just wanna make sure she's ok" he said not even bothering to watch Nathan's reaction.

Once he heard Nathan stalk out of the room that was when he made his way to her bed.

She had a pinch to her brows, her face the color of a pearl. He liked watching her sleep, it always brought to him a sense of serenity. A warm smile graced his facade as he brushed away a curl that had fallen into her face.

And as he turned to leave that was when it happened.

Her fists balled tightly into her sheets so hard that her knuckles begun to turn white and then a scream rang out breaking the peace.

Before his mind could comprehend his actions he had flown to her side again, trying to pin her down.

There was no use in trying to call Nathan back to him because he was already no doubt sitting in the passenger seat of his mustang waiting on him.

So that ruled that option out.

She thrashed harder, drops of grief beginning to spill from her scrunched up eyes. It continued on for about three minutes before he couldn't take seeing her suffer anymore.

"Peyton wake up your dreaming" he tried but it fell on deaf ears and she let out a cross between a strangled sob and screech.

But the words she whimpered out next shocked him, resonating right down to his very core even though he knew she wasn't saying it consciously.

"Please don't do this to me..."

He couldn't place why but those very words had sent terror shooting up his spine and he tried in vain to wake her furthermore.

But she repeated the words over and over like a mantra screaming it frenetically.

He wanted to help her.

"PEYTON!" He cried, he hadn't wanted to do it but she was unresponsive and left him no choice, if he hadn't of been panicking so much he would have simply thrown water over her but he was too desperate.

He rose his hand slowly and delivered a hard smack to her face, he hadn't intended it to be so hard and his heart broke when he saw her head fly into her pillow quite violently.

He heard her groan into her bolster in what could only be described as pain and was instantly thrown again into stress mode.

Had he hurt her?

"Peyton I'm so sorry, I was scared...y...you weren't waking up" he rushed and watched as her glazed over eyes snapped to his with flare.

Her emerald eyes that had once twinkled with an impish charm now held nothing but dull lifelessness and rage. Rage directed at him, it shocked him to the core how cold her eyes glared at him.

She stared at him as though he was trying to hurt her, like she was terrified of him.

Like he was the foe.

"Peyton?"

Her expression morphed from fear to hostility in a matter of seconds, and she pulled the blanket up tighter around herself sitting up abruptly.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed her eyes holding a dangerous and almost manic glint to them. She looked feral and it scared him. He had never seen her react like this before.

She had been so strong and now she was cowering in fear of him right before his very eyes. This wasn't her.

"I. I..." He stumbled for the right words to say, but his mind came up blank and he found himself incapable of explaining what he was doing on her bed let alone inside her house.

"Get out" she murmured acridly as that same vulnerable look from earlier today crossed her profile before it was completely swiped away and all that was left in it's wake was a fractious little girl.

He could tell that if he didn't get out of there soon that she would go ballistic on him, but he had come here for a reason and after days of her shutting him out he was not leaving without an answer.

The two blonds participated in an intense stare off as Lucas stood his ground. After about twenty seconds Lucas couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Not until you tell me why your acting the way that you are, why are you shutting me out. Why are you shutting all of us out?" he asked calmly scanning her face for any other emotions except for aggression and agitation, but he found nothing.

He was brilliant at sizing up his opponents, with a feral instinct for finding their vulnerabilities, their weaknesses.

In a flash she was up and out of her bed, yanking him up by the arm and trying her best efforts to get him out of her room.

"I MEAN IT LUKE GET OUT!" She shrieked but her attempts were futile because he would not budge.

He looked down at her his blue eyes wide in shock at her outburst and his throat starting to burn as he witnessed the transition of the person she had once been to the person she was now.

It took another hard whack to his face before he jumped into action, he grabbed her by the arms and pinned her against the wall to prevent her from doing him anymore harm. There were definitely gonna be some bruises there in the morning.

"STOP IT!" He yelled and watched as she froze up instantly, tears dancing in her big eyes but not spilling over.

"L...Let me go" she stuttered out as her chest begun to heave desperately for breath. For space.

He brought one of his hands up to cup her cheek and she tried to move away but he forced her to look at him.

"Peyton this isn't you" he warned as she squirmed under his grasp.

"What the fuck do you know about me?" she spat as she squeezed her eyes shut so she didn't have to look at him.

It was then he realized how close they actually were to each other, she was wearing nothing but panties and a white tank top. Her chest completely bare underneath.

He mentally cursed himself for the desire he felt course through him and made sure to keep his emotions in check.

But as his gaze ran over her, his breath caught in his throat at what he saw. His piercing cobalt eyes widening yet again in an all new kind of disturbance.

She had bruises of every different shape and size. The bruises were a multitude of hues, colors that normally should not be on someones skin. There were garish purple splotches, roughly the size of a fist, while others were more grayish, but still looked just as bad.

And they were all over her. It was horrible.

And it wasn't just the bruises.

There were scars, too.

Lines across her body, like someone or something had dug it's nails into her, tearing her flesh and not to mention the bite marks on her neck.

Someone had hurt her, the gashes and teeth marks told the whole story. It was horrible, He could hardly bear to look at her.

"Peyton...what happened to you?" he asked frantically as he let go of her hands and held her head in his calloused ones.

Silence.

It scared Lucas more than the sight of her.

"Peyton hey...open your eyes...who did this to you?" he queried again and she flipped for the second time that night shoving him with an incredible force off of her. He stumbled back a bit, not because it hurt which it did but more from the shock of it.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" she cried as she continued shoving him, she pushed him until he was standing in the hallway of the upstairs then slammed her bedroom door in his face.

He breathed in and out deeply. In through his nose, out from his mouth. Steady motions just to calm him down, just so that he could get himself to think rationally.

Had he really seen what he thought he had just seen? Had someone attacked her? When did this happen?

He felt his head begin to spin with copious questions until his desperation got the better of him and he begun knocking panickedly on the door.

"Peyton if you don't open this door and tell me the truth right now I'm gonna call the police" he threatened but it did little to quell his relief for the door did not open.

He was torn.

Did he leave her to go and get Nathan or did he stay and call the police. It was already apparent that he had drawn up his own conclusion of what happened. As he reached into his pocket to get his phone, he heard the door creak open and there she stood now fully dressed in old baggy clothes.

That hung from her frail body like wet cloths.

She looked so unfazed and passionless that he begun to think that he might of just imagined the whole thing.

It was amazing how she had just switched from one emotion to none at all.

"Peyton?" he asked as he forced the tears that were threatening to spill to stay at bay.

"I fell down the stairs" she blatantly lied.

He didn't know if it was some sort of denial about what happened to her, or if she was scared that if she spoke then she would be endangered but he guessed it was both. So he pushed her a little farther.

"Ok let's try this again. Who did this to you?" he asked calmly so that he wouldn't scare her.

"Dammit Luke are you brain dead, I just told you what happened I fell down the stairs. Now if you don't mind I'd like you to leave so that I don't have to look at your pathetic face" he felt his heart clench slightly at the way she was so bluntly pushing him away.

But he knew that if he didn't leave now then she would never let him in.

It was apparent that she needed time and he would come back tomorrow and try again. And the day after that and the day after that and so on if he had too.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

No more words were exchanged between them as he back away slowly. The image of her broken body imprinted in his mind and it made him sick to his stomach.

He had to do something, he had to tell somebody. But that somebody wasn't the police or the others yet.

He knew if he told the others that Peyton would never forgive him and it wasn't his place to tell them.

So he would tell his mom.

She'd know what to do. She was a woman and a strong maternal figure in Peyton's life.

Maybe she could get through to her and break her out of the denial.

He didn't want to go around pointed the finger at various options because only Peyton herself knew what had happened to her.

But his mind kept coming back to one conclusion and he too found himself contradicting the situation, even when the evidence was all over her.

Yet one thought burnt into his brain.

 _"Oh god NO!"_

It screamed in his head louder than a foghorn and he couldn't make it stop. But he knew one thing for sure, the monster or monsters who had done this too her was not going to get away with it Scot free.

He took the stairs two at a time as he fled the Sawyer premises and took long strides towards his cerise mustang where Nathan was waiting for him.

He saw Nathan notice his presence and a smile split his face.

The whole time Lucas was on the verge of throwing up, the blood roaring in his ears. The car door creaked as he opened it promptly and he booted the door shut making a loud metal twang as the door collapsed.

"Whoa bro what's got you so steamed up?" Nathan chortled but Lucas was finding none of it even close to being remotely funny. It was like he was in his own tailor made private hell, he hadn't even heard what Nathan had just said. Robotically he turned the car into ignition and before he knew it the car was sailing swiftly down the empty streets on route back home.

He didn't speak a peep to Nathan, simply swung by his house to drop him off then begun the journey back to his own house.

His mind swam with disturbing images of Peyton. And it made all the thoughts stem back to the nightmares he had been having about her in trouble.

Before he knew it he was dry heaving and swerved to pull his car up on the gritty side of the road.

He was gonna be sick.

He just about made it to the grass before Barffallo Bill made it's appearance. The vile acidic substance that had been churning in his stomach ever since he first set eyes on Peyton's bruised and battered body.

The pain seemed to swallow him into a deep abyss that he fought to escape. Somehow it felt like it was all his fault and he was sure it was. Maybe if he would've kept an eye on her he could have seen it coming. The oh so familiar pain started to make his eyes gloss up as he remembered those bruises. Forever stuck in his mind. When he closed his eyes to sleep tonight he was sure that would be all that he saw.

His breaths hitched and he could feel himself about to lose control.

Complete anger and devastation overwhelmed him but he composed himself. He didn't want to make assumptions.

He pushed himself of his knees and rose to his full height, rubbing at his red eyes.

He needed to stay calm, he didn't even know what had happened yet.

He barely remembered the long prolonged ride home, just knew that before he knew it he was sitting in his car outside his house.

Every light in his house was still lit, and it reminded him of how much he loved being home. The warmth of just being near his home gave him a sense of comfort.

He virtually speed walked up to his front door, the anguish eating him alive, he was on a mission.

He burst through the front door and took long strides to the kitchen. He found his mom sitting at the table nursing a cup of tea that looked like it had gone long since cold.

His chest was heaving for breath as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He was panicking because he didn't know what to do to help Peyton and also due to the fact that his hunch might not even be right.

But he knew deep down from the marks on her skin that he was.

He had to be.

"Oh hey honey Brooke left not so long ago something about..." she instantly shut up once she caught sight of her son's crippled appearance.

She stood up painfully slow making her way towards him until she stood directly in front of him.

"Luke what's happened?" she asked carefully as she grabbed one of his broad shoulders, assuring him that whatever it was he could tell her.

"I think something bad's happened to Peyton" he choked out as his eyes begun to glaze over with wrath.

* * *

 **Authors Note: So I know the slap was probably a bit OOC for Lucas but I wanted to highlight the desperation he was feeling watching her experience something so horrible that he couldn't help her with. Also answering a question to DiDevil people do stupid things when they are hurt and that was how I wanted Brooke to take Peyton's rejection, as a character I can't help but feel that she can be quite a little self centered at times so I decided to explore that side of her. More DRAMA to follow next chapter. I only update on Thursdays.**

 **SPOILER: Lucas confides in his mother. Peyton begins to shut down completely (she's in the acute phase of her rape recovery).**

 **Thanks.**


	4. Chapter 4

**With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers : Chapter 4**

Title: With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers

Author(s): Blondiiee

Pairing/Characters: Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer

Rating: M

Warnings: heavy sexual situations

Summary: What was once simple, is now complex. What Peyton once loved—who she once loved—she now hates. What she thought she knew to be true, is now lies. Nothing makes sense anymore, and she knows she's supposed to tell someone what happened but she can't. So she buries it instead. And she buries the way she used to be. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason.

 **Chapter 4**

Emotion for someone like Peyton Sawyer was a tricky thing to work through.

The natural emotions that she had carried with her for years after her mother died, now manifested itself into something infinitely more dangerous and exhilarating.

The slightest thrill of happiness could result in a contagious high that lasted weeks, months, even years.

The slightest edge of terror, could result in a never-ending chronic fear of anything that moved, and a hint of mourning, something powerful and relative to all species, could last an eternity if she allowed herself to suffer from it, allowed it to continue.

Peyton was beginning to think that she had dreamt Lucas's untimely visit last night.

Her mind was foggy and she could barely remember a thing, all she could seem to recollect was waking up to him in her face and telling him to leave.

She had found it hard to recall a lot of stuff lately since...

Well let's just say she'd rather not think about that.

She had set herself up a plan for the day, she would not go to school again and she would stay in. Her home was the only place she could trust because as far as she was concerned no where else was safe. What if those men came back and got her while she was least expecting it.

She couldn't take that risk.

She had been awake since Lucas had left and could not get herself to go back to sleep for the life of her.

Mentally though, she was starting to admit that it was catching up with her. And whether she liked it or not she needed to sleep, she just wasn't ready yet.

Every time she closed her eyes, she was right back in that house, with that disgusting animal looming over her. Ripping her open from the inside out.

So what if not going to school meant not graduating, she'd much rather sit that out anyway.

Truth be told she didn't even know if by the end of this year she'd still be alive, not at the rate she was going.

But first things first she needed a shower, it was out of the question. Gripping onto some clothes that lay strewn on her desk, she chucked them into the open door of her restroom.

She shed the old clothes she had so thoughtlessly thrown on a night ago prior and walked quickly into her bedroom bathroom making sure to pass the mirror without catching a glimpse of her assaulted body.

The very sight of herself made her disgusted.

She knew what she'd see a sixteen-year-old wisp of a girl, broken beyond anyone's compare.

Damaged goods.

The response of the shower was immediate, the metallic head that hung loosely above her spread burning hot water onto her body, the sudden shock making her tense her muscles.

Normally she would of found the sanctuary of the shower to be soothing but this time it just hurt.

It felt like hail stones hitting her body at full speed, it was a form of torture.

It was ranking in a tie with when she had went to pee for the first time after the event and a burning sensation had festered from her vagina. It had felt like she was pissing out fire.

Literally.

And not to mention the specks of blood she'd found on the toilet paper, that shouldn't of been there to begin with.

She let out a repressed groan of discomfort reaching blindly for the bleach that she knew rested just below her on the base of the shower.

She poured the offending smelling substance onto the white scrunchy she usually washed with.

Apart of her always wondered how bleach and chlorine smelt exactly the same, maybe it was because they were made from the same material.

Her fingers met her grown out blond hair, dancing into the mess it was, ridding it of the knots time had given.

She'd never be safe out there would she? and sure enough, that knowledge only made her confidence crumble even further.

She scrubbed the chemical over her body, the action almost soothing to her welted skin. At least this way she knew she'd be clean for sure. Her mind begun to plague with the unwanted memories of that bastard's brutal attack on her neck and she found that she could scrub harder.

Tears begun to prick her eyes followed by her fist meeting the wall. There was no way that this had happened to her, she had always been so careful.

She wasn't one of them. She couldn't be a victim, could she?

She bit her trembling lip to try and stop the sob from escaping her wet lips, because if she let it out then it would be over and the fantasy would be broken.

Reality would cruelly hit her hard in the face and it would all become excruciatingly real.

She turned the shower off just as it began to get cold and stepped out wrapping herself into a soft, thirsty towel.

It clung to her body like a lover, the softness feeling magnificent around her after that shower.

It didn't take long for her to get dressed, after all she was incapable of taking pride in her appearance.

She must've looked so sleazy in her dad's oversize dress shirt and skinny jeans but she couldn't care less, she didn't want any male attention.

Moving with a fluid grace she took long swift steps into her room and her heart leapt into her throat at what she saw.

She felt the muscles of her heart tighten with incredible force, sending gushes of blood down her veins in a single movement.

Her breath begun to quicken and she used every threw in her body to stifle a whimper.

What the hell was Lucas doing back in her room, sitting on her bed with that broody look on his face, when she had told him to leave just seven hours ago.

This was her house he couldn't just let himself in when he felt like it.

How dare he.

"You shouldn't be here" she meant for it to come out harsh but instead it came out more of a whisper.

She was so close to bursting into tears once his tortured blue eyes snapped to hers and she had to force herself to look away in fear that she would breakdown.

"Where else would I be?" he murmured like it was the most simplest thing in the world, his feverish vision not once wavering from hers.

"Brooke know your here?" she knew it was low blow but she just wanted to be left alone, how else was she meant to return to normal with him fawning over her.

She could tell he was ignoring her futile attempts to shut him out and it sparked annoyance within her.

"Peyton I need you to tell me what happened?" she furrowed her brows not understanding the question, but she knew deep down that the question couldn't of been more apparent.

It was in that moment that she felt a montage of flashbacks from last night glide across her minds eye and she suddenly realized what he meant.

Oh god this wasn't happening.

She folded her arms across her chest protecting herself from him, whatever he was gonna dish out she could take it.

"I don't know what your talking about" she reclined her tearful eyes blinking excessively.

She could practically feel the determination radiating off of him and it made her want to throw up.

Her eyes widened as he let out an infuriated breath and pushed himself of her bed taking long strides towards her.

She felt herself begin to shut down, she couldn't bare him anywhere near her. Just the thought of a man or anyone for that matter touching her made her skin crawl.

She took a step back when he tried to touch her and watched his jaw clench in what could only be placed as anguish.

"You can't even bare me touching you" he bleated as she set her eyes to the floor. She'd rather look anywhere in the room but at him.

"Look Luke I don't know what your problem is but I thought we settled this last night, I fell down the stairs a few days ago and that's the end of it okay. You can't just walk into my house when you feel like it. It's not right" she stressed raking a trembling hand through her unruly locks.

Those curls and the blond were definitely going to be the first to go.

She had made up her mind that she was going to change her hair as soon as possible, it wasn't going to be a dramatic change but it would be just enough to make her feel at least sane.

He ran his thumb over his plump rosy lips and turned his back to her abruptly.

His shoulders were square with tension and she could tell he was trying to get a grip of his emotions.

"Stop lying to me" the authority in his voice caught her of guard and she found a bloom of sweat beginning to spread across her brow as well as instant nausea.

"I'm not lying to you" she forced out making sure to keep her features cool and collected. He had no proof if she wasn't a sobbing mess.

"DAMMIT PEYTON STOP LYING TO ME!" He tore his hand away from his head and turned to her wild eyed.

Tears boiled up in her orbs almost immediately at his outburst and she registered how pathetic she must've looked standing there cowering before Lucas Scott.

A boy who would never hurt her intentionally.

He neared closer to her and she stood her ground looking up at him with a defiant expression etched onto her facade.

"Peyton tell me the truth...were you raped?" he pleaded and she sucked in a sharp breath at the evident tears dancing in his usually calm and caring eyes.

Lucas barely ever cried which was why it came as such a shock when he did.

She regarded him long and hard for a second, making sure to speak when she knew for sure that her voice wouldn't betray her.

"I fell down the stairs" she repeated firmly looking him dead in the eye in attempt at getting him to believe she was serious.

She knew that she could never fool him of all people, he could always read her like a book and she hated it.

She hated how well he knew her.

"Ok Peyt look this is what's going to happen your gonna come down to my mom's cafe with me, she's closed it up for you so that we can all sit down and talk about how we move past this" she let out a gasp of astonishment.

He'd told his mom.

Karen knew.

There was nothing to know, he was wrong.

They were wrong.

She had fallen down the stairs and that was it. Maybe if she kept telling herself that eventually she would believe it.

Her face contorted into one of disgust as she eyed him with disbelief.

"I can't believe this..." she choked out, her voice breaking.

"Please Peyton we just wanna help you, we'll take you down to the hospital and we'll get you checked out ok just...let me help you" he begged seizing her hands in a form of desperation but she ripped them away with a violent gleam in her eyes.

"Get out" she seethed, she was livid. Why was he doing this to her?

There was a brief pause, a deafening silence hanging in the air as the two blonds stood in her room, chests heaving and both as stubborn as the other.

Finally Peyton broke it when she couldn't take the heated tension anymore.

"You can leave now" she informed turning her back on him and folding her arms across her chest to show him how serious she was. Yet he didn't go anywhere, his presence in her room still lingered and it was threatening to drive her to rock bottom.

He needed to get out now.

"I didn't want it to come to this" she found her brows creasing, she hadn't known what he had meant by that until she felt his powerful arms lock around her waist and she was hoisted into the air.

The terror that radiated through her was inexplicable as her blood begun to freeze over. Her stomach wrenched in knots, and the chill in the air made the act of shivering painful.

Like being trapped in the past she was taken right back to that house, back to slimy hands pulling her hair and touching her in places she'd rather forget.

"STOP IT LUKE!" the screech that erupted from her as he dragged her into the hallway was inhuman.

She was sore enough and he was making it hurt all the more.

She had screamed the whole time he'd dragged her to his car, Her heart thumping like bass drums in a band, echoing in her ears, to the point that she thought she would become deaf.

She was a sobbing mess by the time she was in the mustang, hysterical even. And deaf to his apologies as she hugged her knees to her chest.

Inside the car, it was nice and dry. Lucas obviously liked to keep his space clean, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of gasoline and peppermint.

The engine started quickly, but loudly roared to life and then idled at top volume. The whole journey to Karen's cafe was spent with her breaking down into her knees while he had tried desperately to calm her down.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

She hadn't bothered to fight him when he had practically hauled her through the entrance of his mom's cafe.

Determined not to let him get that reaction out of her for a second time. She was cold again which was how it should be and she'd be fine as long as he kept his hands to himself.

Once she stepped through the threshold the sight of Karen Roe sitting at one of the cafe table with three mugs of whatever was in those cups came into her line of vision.

Karen Roe was many things, a single mother, an amazing friend and Tree Hill's woman with the heart of swellows but she was hardly a person that Peyton felt she could open up too.

She should've seen this little intervention coming, how could she of been so stupid. She wasn't in the mood to go on a real crying jag.

She would save that for bedtime, when she would have to worry about the coming morning.

Before she knew it she was forced down into one of the hard, uncomfortable chairs and staring at nothing in particular.

Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips when she finally looked at Karen's apologetic gaze.

"Peyton do you know why your here?" Karen's voice was soothing and maternal but still it did nothing to quell her consuming need to run for the hills without a side ward glance.

Peyton didn't even bat an eyelid. She regarded Karen for a second a hard edge to her green eyes. She had gotten so use at faking and pretending that everything was peachy keen that it had almost become something she was natural at.

Like a switch she could turn on and off in her mind.

She cleared her throat trying to break through the tension in the air.

"Yeah" she declared flatly.

"You do?" Lucas piped up and she had to will herself to not roll her eyes.

"Sure" she made herself look bored casting her eyes down to a stray thread that hung from the humongous shirt that covered her bruises from the naked eye.

"Peyton" Lucas warned and she shot him a look that was capable of killing.

"Look sweetie I know how hard this must be for you but we need more than just one-word answers. Tell us why you're you here Peyton?" Karen's eyes stared at her, forming an intense gaze.

It made her feel uncomfortable and she found herself squirming and writhing under both their gapes.

Their expressions had all sorts of emotions.

Peyton was infuriated, her face and neck beginning to become red hot and the feeling in her heart becoming one of resentment.

How could Lucas do this to her?

"I didn't know you were a therapist Karen" she spat bitterly, looking between the two of them with dead eyes.

They both said nothing, awaiting an answer. Finally giving in she straightened and focused her attention to the mug of steaming hot chocolate before her. Hot chocolate would haunt her now until the day that she died.

It didn't take long before that same feeling of crippling terror from last night begun to slowly seep through her.

"I'm here because I fell down the stairs and Lucas being the overbearing annoying dip shit that he is, is reading too much into it. Don't you have some cakes to go bake or something?" she deadpanned nearing onto the edge of her seat.

"Look Peyton your in shock and I know your hurting pretty bad but..." that was where she had to draw the line, she halted Lucas's pointless attempt to get inside her head.

She wasn't letting him in. Not now, not ever.

Never again.

"You know what I have a headache so I'm just gonna..." she scooted her chair out, the wood making a disgusting screeching noise on the linoleum floor.

"Peyton please" Lucas rose to his feet frantically, he gripped her hand and she stiffened instantly before prying it off of hers.

The sudden movement caused that all to mundane smell of lavender to whiff up her delicate nostrils.

Lavender was supposed to be the same as lilacs, a sweet aromatic fragrance that evoked a feeling of calm and tranquility to anyone who smelt it.

But to her it was enough to send bile creeping it's way up her throat.

Her eyes flew around her surroundings almost deliriously hellbent on detecting where the hell that smell was coming from and it stopped at the counter where the cash machine sat. The flower stood tall, taunting her like some sort of bad omen.

Lucas caught onto this.

"Peyton...?" he queried following her line of vision but before he could get another word out she leapt down his throat.

"Is that Lavender?" her eyes looked between the both of them, who were simultaneously glancing back at her like she had grown three heads.

Queasiness begun to spread through her like wild fire and her nostrils flared. She begun to wretch, gasping for breaths. "Peyton are you ok?" Lucas's tone rose an octave higher with panic as she scanned the area for somewhere to spew.

"Hate...that...smell" she wheezed her lips suddenly feeling like sand paper and she turned away abruptly, vomit hitting the clean floor and almost instantly the air filled with digested stench.

"Shit" Lucas gushed out as he moved to hold her hair out the way. Pulling some tissues from his pocket he begun to wipe her mouth clean, but she was still to weak to move.

"Lucas get her out of here. Take her back to our house she's gonna stay with us, we can't let her be on her own...not with something as big as this" Karen instructed and once again she found herself being forced out of the cafe and back into his car.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

The silence was what haunted Lucas the most, it was like she was completely detached from reality.

"Peyton...are you ok?" he risked but she didn't miss the way his voice cracked on the last word.

She grit her teeth together, she didn't know why she had gotten so sick all of a sudden back there but she knew it was due to the fact that when that slimy disgrace of a human being had been balls deep inside her.

There on his bed side sat Lavenders.

Lavenders had been her dearly departed mothers favorite flowers, she used to lay in the garden for hours just inhaling the scent so that she could feel close to her.

It was funny how things changed around. How something that she had use to hold so dearly to her heart was now something that she shunned away from.

In no time at all they were pulling up outside the Roe-Scott property. It was beautiful, of course. Everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground was covered with ferns.

Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves.

The house itself was a small two bedroom house that Karen had brought with Lucas's uncle Keith.

Flowers of every kind sprouted left, right and center like great vines.

It was homely and she had always found herself feeling warm and tingly inside every time she went round, however this time it felt like she was being thrown into the fires of hell itself.

She stayed mute the who time he guided her into his house and down the corridor to his room.

Everything looked opulent from the gleaming wood floors covered in loving throw rugs to the sheer curtains billowing like mist on the wall of floor to ceiling windows.

Lucas's room was made of shades of mustard cream much similiar to the living room walls.

It consisted of trophies and books. Posters of famous basketball players from Michael Jordan to Jerry West.

She stiffened slightly as he sat her down as gently as he could on his bed, before taking a seat opposite her.

"Peyton if you don't talk to me I can't help you...Let me in" he pleaded bringing his left hand up to brush her cheek lightly.

She had no idea how hard she was making for him. It was painful to see her like this. All he wanted to do was embrace her and let the torrent of her tears soak through his shirt.

He felt himself begin to tense up not knowing whether to be mad or to give up hope all together.

It was almost like he could hear her silently screaming, suffocating with each breath she took holding onto her pride.

He brought up his other hand and ran his fingers lightly through her hair, in an attempt to calm the silent war within her mind.

"I'm not gonna let you fall" His touch to her felt like being burned by the hot sun alone.

She couldn't stand it.

She had loved this boy more than her own life at one point, and deep down she knew she still did. But it was buried under the surface, hidden away from her own reach, as was the joy and happiness she had once gotten out of life.

And now all that remained was anger, confusion and a pain so strong that she could barely breath.

She broke away from his touch, and rose to her feet. It seemed she had been doing that a lot lately.

His eyes stayed locked on hers silently pleading with her to let him take some of the pain away. She wanted to hug him and tell him that it would all be okay, that with his help she could get through it but that was all wistful thinking.

And that knowledge was what drove her feet to go in the direction of his bathroom and lock the door.

Shutting him out, so that he would be blind to the broken mess that she had become.

She turned and finally after avoiding it for three days straight, faced her pallid reflection in the mirror staring herself dead in the eyes.

She looked terrible, her eyes were sunken in from deprivation of sleep and her skin was as white as even the plainest of paper.

A part of her was starting to admit that she was lying to herself when she said she was fine.

She could hear his footsteps approaching the locked door and before she knew it he was knocking gently, It sounded as if he was knocking on the door to a room full of sleeping bulldogs.

"Peyt I'm sorry ok just tell me what to do and I'll do it" He murmured softly through the door. His voice was as sweet as honey, yet mixed with caution as if she was going to yell or hit him.

She didn't answer but merely bit her trembling bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, all in an attempt to keep the sob trapped in her parched throat.

"Look Peyt...I'm not gonna force you to talk but when you're ready I'll be here and we'll figure this out together" she wanted to laugh bitterly. To tell him that there was no "we" in this. That it was just her...like always.

Why was he always so dead set on saving her. He had Brooke didn't he, why couldn't he just leave her alone.

He was good at that.

"Peyton..." yet again he was talking to a brick wall.

All that could be heard was the sounds of both their heavy breathing. Both on the verge of having their own dramatic meltdown.

"Okay Peyt..." he uttered defeated. And she heard his feet take steps out of the room, it was the slamming of his bedroom door that told her he was gone.

And that was when the first droplet of water burst forth from her glazed over orbs.

Her eyes snapped to the mirror again.

She thought she was hallucinating at first but it became apparent that it was very real when the bead made it's way down her cheek and dripped from her chin.

Then the dam finally cracked and the reverie was over.

Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. She slowly sunk to the bathroom floor, bending forward where she sat and pressing her palms to the mat, she began to cry with the force of a person vomiting on all fours.

She didn't know how long she sat like that just weeping.

Minutes, hours...who knew.

When it finally subsiding, she sat there feeling glum, empty. Having three days of emotion bottled up inside of her was a lot to handle and she knew for sure that it would happen again.

It had happened earlier so this second breakdown was her proof.

She was about to get up when something sitting on top of the cabinet caught her eye. The box was pink and black and gleamed like a sign sent straight from the heavens above, it was hair dye.

Cotton Candy pink hair dye.

She shot up and snatched the box of the shelf, proceeding to read through the instructions erratically.

If she said the change wasn't going to be dramatic...

She lied.

* * *

 **Authors Note: Thank you for all the support and reviews. This chapter did take quite a lot out of me, I'd love to hear what everyone thought of it so please review. As to chapter wise this FanFiction will be as long as you want it to be, is 40 chapters ok?. Also there will be a flashback so that you guys can see how the conversation between Lucas and Karen went down.**

 **SPOILER: Peyton starts to get very confused, How far will she go for a sense of normalcy?. Lucas being her doting savior tries to help her and an unlikely visitor turns up. (ALSO A LEYTON KISS IS PROMISED) - Hopefully it won't be too early, as I said she's confused and I wanna explore the promiscuity side of things that rape can make a person feel, due to needing back a lack of control over their life. Her use of** **"validation from men" will stem from the anger and carelessness...meaning that Peyton will begin to stop caring about anything anymore as well as losing her self respect.**

 **Thanks.**


	5. Chapter 5

FLASHBACKS ARE IN ITALIC.

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 **With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers : Chapter** **5**

Title: With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers

Author(s): Blondiiee

Pairing/Characters: Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer

Rating: M

Warnings: heavy sexual situations

Summary: What was once simple, is now complex. What Peyton once loved—who she once loved—she now hates. What she thought she knew to be true, is now lies. Nothing makes sense anymore, and she knows she's supposed to tell someone what happened but she can't. So she buries it instead. And she buries the way she used to be. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason.

 **Chapter 5**

When he was very young, way back in the 'nineties, he had believed that all of life would be like one long and perfect summer day. After all, it did start that way. There was not much he could say about his earliest childhood except that it was very good, beside the fact that his dad was a total dick and hadn't stuck around.

They weren't rich. They weren't poor. If they had lacked some necessity, he couldn't name it. If they had luxuries, he couldn't name those either, without comparing what his mom and him had to what others had. And nobody had more or less in their middle-class neighborhood. In other words short and simple, he was just an ordinary, run-of-the-mill child.

But for Peyton it was extremely different and he hated the universe for that. She much reminded him of Lux Lisbon from The Virgin Suicides, flaxen-haired with a striking fair complexion.

Lucas trudged over to one of the nearby chairs at the dinner table, and sunk into it just as his dead legs gave out. His brain was tied up in tight knots and his heart was beating more quickly, breath coming more quickly, hands shaking, all of which he was trying his best to keep under control.

He clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut counting to ten.

He couldn't get the mental image of Peyton's devoid face out of his mind, when he looked at her he saw nothing. No emotion and worst of all no hope, she had given him a look so swift and venomous, so threatening that the words had caught in his throat and he had no choice but to give her space. Not to mention she had quite literally shut him out of his own room. He hadn't realized how worked up he had gotten until the glass vase that had been sitting glamorously in the middle of the table was on the floor in smithereens.

It didn't take a genius to know that Peyton was no doubt falling apart behind that closed door, and he wanted to cry along with her. But he had lost that right when he had turned his back on her before all of this even happened.

He was snapped out of his musing by the vibration of his cell in his front jean pocket.

All he so desperately wanted to do was to ignore it, to shut himself away and pretend that none of this was happening. That he could just open his eyes and it would all be some sort of cruel dream.

But he wouldn't turn his back on her again. God, never again.

He flipped his cell open not even bothering to read the caller ID, rubbing at his red eyes agitatedly he waited patiently for the voice of whoever it was who had dared to disrupt his self pity to flood through the receiver. It came as no surprise to him that it was Brooke.

He had totally forgotten he even had a girlfriend.

Brooke reminded him of a tramp, if you fed it they would just keep coming back for more.

"Lucas where the hell are you why aren't you in school?" he found himself flinching at the hard edge to her tone, he was so not in the right state of mind to be having an argument with her, not while one of his closest friends were suffering only a short distance away. There was nothing more he wanted to do at that particular moment in time than scream at her that she didn't get to scold him for not going to school, that she wasn't his mom.

To ask her how she could be so obsessed with popularity and self-image, how she could be so blind to what was going on around her…hell he even considered hanging up on her altogether.

"I wasn't feeling that good so I stayed home" the lie came instantly to him, there was no wracking his brain for a cover story. No stumbling over words, he was so use to telling Brooke what she wanted to hear that it was easy. He let a few coughs that had been rattling in his chest, tumble out of his mouth to give his story an alibi.

"Well thanks to you not feeling well now I have to find my own way home after school" normally her sultry pur would of made him want to have her then and there but now it just made him shift uncomfortably. It just wasn't having the same effect it normally had on him and deep down he knew the reason for this.

"Well that's just to bad" he had to admit he kind of shocked himself a little at the way he had just spoke to her. He was always so accustom to her playfulness but she had no idea how annoying she was to him right now. "Woah Broody I'm only kidding" her voice sounded light and slightly hurt and he couldn't of stopped the guilt that swept through him if he tried.

"Look I'm sorry I didn't mean that I just... I feel really ill right now" he murmured casting his eyes to the direction of his bedroom door where the source of his un-wellness resided.

"Well why don't I come around later and make you feel better" there it was again, that same spark of irritation and he couldn't turn it off.

"Brooke I..." He begun but she cut him off with an all new sort of chirpiness to her tone.

"Great I'll swing by later, its not up for discussion see you later boyfriend" before he could get another word in the line went dead.

"Shit" he growled throwing his cell carelessly at the wall and he watched on with a brief sense of satisfaction as it crumbled into a heap on his kitchen floor. But it was short lived when he realized just how the fuck was his mother meant to get in touch with him if she needed to as well as Haley and Nathan.

This did nothing but add to his rage.

He scooted the chair out and walked down the hall to his bedroom. He knew she was in his bathroom so he had nothing to worry about. He would only be in there for a few seconds literally just to go out the back door.

It was decided, he would go for walk to clear his head and figure out how he'd get through to Goldilocks 2.0. Ever since he'd known Peyton she had always been adamant about letting her guard down, who could blame her, she had lost her mom when she was just seven years old. Her dad was a deadbeat, and now this.

She was the way she was now because some sick shit had robbed her off her dignity and robbed him of the beautiful artistic girl he had once deeply fallen in love with and possibly could still love. It wasn't fair...

None of it was.

She was just a sixteen year old girl, she shouldn't have to deal with this. Especially not on her own. He glided through his room with an unnatural grace and before he knew it he could feel the air kissing his face.

The afternoon was just right, late summer warmth rather than the early spring cold. The air tasted new and fresh instead of the usual diesel and dog shit. Without any conscious thought his feet began smacking the pavement, like the echo of his heartbeat slamming inside him, reassuring him that he was still there, he was now, that he was alive.

As he walked his thoughts drifted to the conversation he had, had with his mom just the night before.

 _H_ _e burst through the front door and took long strides to the kitchen. He found his mom sitting at the table nursing a cup of tea that looked like it had gone long since cold._

 _His chest was heaving for breath as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He was panicking because he didn't know what to do to help Peyton and also due to the fact that his hunch might not even be right._

 _But he knew deep down from the marks on her skin that he was._

 _He had to be._

 _"Oh hey honey Brooke left not so long ago something about..." she instantly shut up once she caught sight of her son's crippled appearance._

 _She stood up painfully slow making her way towards him until she stood directly in front of him._

 _"Luke what's happened?" she asked carefully as she grabbed one of his broad shoulders, assuring him that whatever it was he could tell her._

 _"I think something bad's happened to Peyton" he choked out as his eyes begun to glaze over with wrath._

 _He was practically shaking now, not knowing what the hell to do with all of the rage that was burning his insides out. It was like he was a marionette and there was some sort of puppeteer behind him pulling all the strings. He gripped onto one of the glasses resting on the side and hurled it at the opposite wall with a mad glint in his eyes, just to get out the pent up frustration._

 _"LUCAS WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU!" his mother shrieked gripping his reddened face to look down towards her and she gasped at the evident tears that were dancing there. He pushed past her and went towards the sink leaning over it with both hands pressed at the base. The very thought of the whole situation almost had him throwing up all over again._

 _The silence that loomed in the air was a disturbance within itself, Karen breathed heavily trying to figure out what the hell was possessing her son._

 _She had never seen him like this and it scared her._

 _But the wretch that erupted from him instantly sent her into a panic stricken state. She took a step towards him but didn't move any farther. "Are you sick?" her tone rose an eight higher, the tension in the room only getting worse until Karen couldn't stand it anymore, she opened her mouth to talk again when he finally spoke._

 _"I wish..." he uttered eventually when the silence between them stretched so long it might've never came to an end. When he finally turned to face her, he looked so broken down and scarred that she almost had to look away from her own son._

 _"Talk to me...what happened to Peyton?" she urged and yet again bafflement hit her when his legs gave out and he sunk down onto the floor cowering from her. He fisted his dark blond mass of hair so hard that she thought he'd pull it right out from their roots. That in itself was enough to have her propelling herself towards him and kneeling before him on the floor opposite to where he sat._

 _A plague of questions ran through her mind faster than she was breathing._

 _Had Peyton hurt herself?_

 _Was Peyton dead?_

 _Had Lucas hurt her? No Lucas would never hurt her, so that wasn't it._

 _Was it someone they knew?_

 _When?_

 _Where?_

 _How?_

 _Who?_

 _It made her sick to her stomach._

 _She felt her own eyes glossing over when his baby blue ones locked on hers with such seriousness that she had to second guess herself, she needed him to tell her what was going on. No mother should ever have to witness there baby boy hurting so bad and she was desperate now. She was about to ask the same question again when he beat her to the punch._

 _"I...I think Peyton's been attacked" he finally confessed. He watched for his mother's reaction and she did nothing at first. Just knelt motionless and then she flopped back on her rear and sat there on the tiled kitchen floor staring at him. She looked like she couldn't breath._

 _"Mom?" he said, he could feel his throat tightening. Whatever frightened her was nothing compared to how she was frightening him. From the way her face was contorted up and her lips quavered, he thought she was going to burst into tears but she simply stared and bit her lip to stop the trembling._

 _"Mom did you hear what I just said?" he rushed out devastation coloring his tone._

 _"L...Luke sweetie...what do you mean attacked?" she piped up making him jump like the heartbeat of a baby rabbit._

 _"Somebody attacked Peyton" he stressed forcing his voice to sound strong but failing miserably. He was not taking this well at all and it appeared that his mom wasn't either._

 _"Why Luke...what happened, how do you know?" the flurry of questions almost gave him whiplash and he almost asked her to repeat what she had just said again but he went with what his gut told him she'd asked._

 _"I-I w-went round there and s-she was c-covered in these disgusting b-bruises and b-bite m-marks and s-scratch marks it w-was horrible mom. I-I tried to ask her what was wrong but...s-she t-told me tha-that sh-she fell d-down the stairs and that's what she keeps telling me, it's l-like s-she's in..." his voice broke before he could go any farther and he rest his head back against the sink blinking excessively to try and rid the burning out of his eyes._

 _"Denial..." Karen finished for him._

 _"Mom I wanna help her...I don't know what to do, j-just t-tell m-me wh-what t-to do mom please..." he pleaded with her. the droplets that had been torturing his orbs since he left the Sawyer property finally making it's presence known, she continued to stare at him, he could see another thought tightening the corners of her eyes and stretching her lips. She looked even more fearful than before._

 _Before he knew it she had pulled him into a firm embrace, that he didn't have the strength to fight and he held her just as tightly._

 _Karen had always known how strong her son's feelings were for the blond. She even believed that they extended as far as being in love with her, even if he couldn't see it himself. She found herself wondering if it were Brooke in this situation would he of been acting the same way._

 _But as her son liked to put it "this was Peyton"._

 _"It's ok...we'll figure it out. I'll talk to her"_

He shook himself to try and diminish the memory he'd rather not experience again and pulled his phone out of his pocket to dial his mother's number. He had the phone out, number dialled and pressed to his ear in just under five seconds flat.

It wrung twice before her sweet calming voice cut through the phone. "Lucas?" he let out a breath he hadn't know he was holding and his pace quickened. "Mom..." he choked out rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"How is she?" he knew who she meant, it didn't take Einstein to break it down for him.

He chewed on his plump bottom lip choosing his next words carefully then let out a pained sigh, "She's loosing it mom".

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Time had seemed to fly by and Peyton still remained in the bathroom, the only time she had left was to go and borrow one of Karen's dresses to wear. She stared at herself in the mirror and rubbed her red painted lips together. She had the urge to smear it across her face, to sabotage the made up face glaring back at her. But she had already reapplied the make up three times because she couldn't stop crying and she wasn't sure she had the energy to go through the process for the forth time that day.

She averted her eyes instead, refusing to look at the stranger before her for a second more. Because it was seemingly an endless cycle that she kept getting stuck in, day in day out. Self hate. Defiance. She didn't know this person before her...the cotton candy haired power puff chick who was slowly transitioning into a person she had no idea existed.

The dormant side.

Her stare skittered to the closed door suddenly. She could hear movement on the other side and anticipated him entering. But it never happened, Lucas was too much of a gentleman for that, besides the door was locked he couldn't of got in if he tried.

She had long since shed the ugly dress shirt that had previously been draped over her skinny frame and briefly glanced in the mirror to regard the short little black dress that stuck to her body. She tugged it down a little at her chest to reveal the lace edging of her white bra and almost smiled because she thought of Brooke, thought of all the names her fiery ex friend would indefinitely call her if she could see her round about now. But any faint remnants of a smile were instantly gone because then she was started thinking of her friend, Lucas was unavoidable and she could practically see his undoubtable horror when he were to see her like this. She flexed her hand to stop them from ripping the revealing garment off and closed her eyes tight. Don't loose it. Don't loose it. Keep it together.

She needed this. She needed to prove to herself that, that man had no control over her. That she could still dress how she wanted and get any man she wanted because they hadn't taken anything from her.

Not as far as she was concerned.

She pushed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and when she opened her eyes again she didn't allow herself to think of Lucas Scott. Could not. Because her objective was to get this over with as soon as possible and if that meant dressing provocatively then so be it. And she couldn't let herself get stuck thinking of Lucas Scott because it never helped. How could it help? It only made it all so unbearable.

She had to tell herself that it wasn't him, that it was just some guy.

She straightened and puffed out her new hair, forcing a grin onto her lips. She didn't care how long it took, she was going to be normal again if it killed her. This was her proving to herself that she was fine.

The noise from the other side of the door came again but louder this time, and after god knows how long she finally unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out. She hadn't been expecting anyone other than Lucas and it didn't really come as shock to her when his bare back came into view. If he had heard her come out he didn't turn around, either that or he was in his own little world.

It appeared that he must've just been fresh out of a shower, clad in just a pair of faded jeans.

Little droplets of water ran down his back and his normally blond hair was darkened and stuck down to his neck. She almost ran back into the bathroom and hid from him. But she knew that she could do this, even if it would ruin their friendship or whatever it was they had going on.

The lust begun to spread through her like wild fire rushing through her veins in the form of a hot flash, and her heartbeat was hammering in her ears. She had to think twice to whether she wanted to do this, was she ready to just go in all guns blazing?

Especially not after...

After...

No. She was doing this. Letting her desires control her, rather than her, controlling her desires, before she even knew what was possessing her feet, she had glided promptly across the room and just as Lucas was turning round she desperately pulled his face down to hers and pressed her lips to his.

She didn't care if he rejected her because she'd try again, or she'd find someone else to help the pain stop, to make her feel sane...normal. She was brutally cynical and hardened to every rejection under the sun and she barely ever got rejected. No one could say no to her, not even Lucas.

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He hadn't done much when he had gone out to clear his head, he had only quite literally walked round the block a few times then came back to the sanctuary that was his home. He had came to the decision that he would have a shower and that was exactly what he did, he took a cold shower to try and rid some of the heat from his body.

It had somewhat worked but his mind was still troubled. Once done he went to his bedroom to get changed and had a plan of just lounging around for the rest of the day and hoping for Peyton to finally make her presence known, which was why it came as even more of shock to have her lips against his so suddenly. This was so not what he had, had in mind. He didn't understand, it was as if his brain short-circuited and needed to be rebooted. Around him, everything was in fast-forward while he was motionless in the middle of it all. Before he knew what was even happening he was on the soft sheets of his bed and she was straddled across him.

But something wasn't right, something was different she was aggressive and almost animalistic. And her hair was...pink? Oh shit she didn't. She had used his mother's hair dye that she had brought for the dress up party she was going to run at Tric. It was only semi permanent but his heart still broke.

There went that Lux Lisbon image.

This wasn't her none of it was. She was so blinded by her pain that she could barely think straight.

"Peyt stop..." he tried but she grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him harder.

He could feel himself giving in, and he was beginning to kiss her back with just as much passion and fire but he knew that this wasn't her and when she finally got through this spell of darkness and was eventually close to being normal that she'd never forgive him.

His breath caught in his throat when she sensually grinded herself against him and a choked aroused moan erupted from his suddenly dry mouth.

He felt her right hand move from his face and begin to slip into his pants. And his breathing increased, she had no idea how hard she was making this for him, it was obvious by the throbbing erection forming in his denim kecks. He couldn't deny that he wanted her, but not like this.

The long hard stroke she gave his manhood was almost his undoing, he was so close to crying out in ecstasy that it was untrue. He rolled them over so that he was on top of her and yanked her up roughly into a sitting position. She let out a hungry grunt and tried to kiss him again but he gripped the sides of her face and forced her too look at him.

"PEYTON STOP!" he yelled and shook her hard in an attempt to snap her out of the lust induced daze she was experiencing. She was a mess. A beautiful fucking mess.

He had read up last night on his laptop that rape victims tended to get a little confused and rarely even promiscuous.

But he hadn't thought it would've happened to Peyton, he honestly hadn't known what to think.

He rubbed his thumbs across her cheeks gently, then over her smeared wet lips and he felt his heart clench again at the lack of emotion in her eyes. There was just nothing there. "Peyton this isn't you" he tried, and she went in for the kill again.

"Yes...yes it is me" she declared breathlessly grabbing at his face dementedly and moving towards him but he pushed her back gently, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

"Peyton you are confused, you don't know what your doing" he told her and watched as her eyes filled to the brim with tears and she sucked in a sharp breath.

"I'm not even a person to you anymore am I, you think I'm just some sort of broken toy" whispered Peyton, her voice so weak that it was hardly audible. The words sliced through him much like a knife as he realized that she was turning it around on him. Something wild and frightening burgeoned his heart just from watching her reaction to him.

Her eyes were bleak, dark, haunted. Despair washing the radiant color from her beautiful face; it resembled a death mask. He stared up at her, trying to tell her with his eyes that none of what she believed was true.

Yet there she sat with her grey face, her stark eyes, her hands fisting the material of the black dress she wore...his mom's black dress, her bruises were on show and somehow looked a lot worse than before. It was horrible. And each second he watched, her eyes sank deeper into her skull.

She seemed as caught in this nightmare as he was.

He was witnessing the down fall of Peyton Sawyer right before his very eyes and he knew it was about to get a whole new kind of worse.

"Oh god no Peyt...that's not it at all I promise you..." he uttered as he rested his forehead to hers, it was the first time she hadn't resisted him physically touching her and he was starting to wonder if she was finally ready to accept what had happened to her.

So he saw the opportunity to ask her again and he took it.

"Peyton...?" he murmured staring her right into her glazed over eyes.

"I need you to tell me what happened..." her mouth opened and closed like a fish and just as he was getting close to an answer, he heard the handle of the backdoor to his bedroom opening painfully slow.

He prayed for it to be Nathan, Haley hell even Skills but he knew that with his luck it wouldn't go his way.

He somehow always found himself with the worst timing in the world.

He sucked in a shaky breath as the raven haired girl made her presence known, it was none other than his girlfriend Brooke Davis. The fires of hell and complete bafflement dancing in her green eyes.

Lucas felt his heart leap into his throat. He felt like it was happening all over again, they had been here before. It was like déjà vu, like the love triangle was repeating itself for a second time.

The three competed in a stare off, the blond and pink haired girl taking on the roles of the deers caught in headlights and the brunette, the poacher that would shoot them both down.

This was about to get very shit for him indeed.

* * *

 **Authors Note: Hey everyone so I had to update today because I'm going on holiday to Málaga, Spain later tonight until Tuesday next week. So I'm gonna update today while I still have internet connection. But next week should be back to normal. Please do tell me what you think, and your feelings towards this chapter and thank you for all your previous reviews!. Also answering a few questions the door fiasco will be addressed next chapter lol**

 **SPOILER: Brooke and Lucas have it out. Peyton is forced to face up to the fact she was raped when Lucas takes her to the hospital to get checked out.**

 **Until next time peeps.**

 **Thanks.**


	6. Chapter 6

**With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers : Chapter 6**

Title: With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers

Author(s): Blondiiee

Pairing/Characters: Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer

Rating: M

Warnings: heavy sexual situations

Summary: What was once simple, is now complex. What Peyton once loved—who she once loved—she now hates. What she thought she knew to be true, is now lies. Nothing makes sense anymore, and she knows she's supposed to tell someone what happened but she can't. So she buries it instead. And she buries the way she used to be. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason.

 **Chapter 6**

Never before had a room of people stilled so quickly. The tension hung in the air like remnants of cigar smoke and it was as though shadows creeped from every corner of the room, chasing away the last bit of light. Her eyes searched Lucas's face that was sick with guilt as his eyes fixed on something over her shoulder with a haunted look in his silvery blue eyes.

Yet in the commotion of everything only she sat, cold...empty. With little understanding of the situation that was happening around her.

Much like being frozen in the residue of time itself.

The rest was a blur, a cryptic surreal blur. All she heard next was the sound of evident footsteps ditching the doorway and the deafening rattle of a door slamming.

"Brooke" Lucas cried urgently, rising from his place on the floor and taking of after her. Yet again Peyton was left by herself. She breathed heavily, she knew he wouldn't want her, not after everything that had happened. Why would he want filthiness when he could have purity?

She had said it herself, she was nothing more than a broken toy that he thought needed to be fixed. But the truth was what if she had deserved everything that had been coming to her?

What if she had been dressed provocatively and therefore it was her fault?

Had this all been some sort of karma from when she and Lucas had betrayed Brooke the first time round?

The realization of what had happened to her was beginning to dawn on her, and she was not taking it lightly. It was like mentally she could admit to herself that she had been raped but verbally was another story.

She couldn't say the words.

She didn't dare move from her spot on the bed, couldn't if she tried. It was like a feeling of lethargy was routing her to her spot. The cogs in her brain were trying there hardest to decipher fact from fiction but all that kept coming back to her was confusion, confusion and more confusion.

What was Brooke even doing here?

She had ruined everything.

She felt the pressure begin to build in her throat, to the point that she was starting to feel physical pain, her eyes also beginning to sting like someone had spitefully squirted lemon into them. Maybe if she just moved to the window slightly she'd be able to hear what they were saying and the information would become much more clearer to her. There was a thought, at least her brain was working to some extent. Her knees were shaking so bad, she thought she'd collapse back down onto the bed.

She walked as carefully as she could to the somewhat cracked window and peeked out on the decking to where she could see the drama unfolding.

"Brooke I swear to you, that wasn't what you think ok..." she wanted to scream, why had Lucas always had a habit of defending his honor when it came to her. It had been exactly what she thought, he had kissed her back. She had thrown the party and he had been the one dancing on the table. To hell with it wasn't what she thought.

She found herself questioning if she really actually cared about Lucas's rejection and found that she didn't. She didn't need him, like she had told herself before he was just someone who would help her prove to that fucker that he hadn't won.

That she was still in control.

Because she was...right?

"And now you insult me by lying to my face. You said you weren't feeling well so I wanted to make you feel better and then I find you shacked up with some slutty Ramona Flowers reject. Who is she? you know what forget it I'm gonna go ask her myself" Peyton found herself taking a slight step back, her eyes widening in instant panic. Her breath caught uncomfortably in her throat as she watched with nervous eyes as Brooke moved towards the safely shut door, but to her relief Lucas leapt into action.

It wasn't so much the getting caught part, it was how she looked. She was in no mood to have the whole fucking town finding out about...

Well she just didn't need it. She didn't need any of it.

"NO YOU CAN'T GO IN THERE!" he all but shrieked, tugging her back to her previous position of standing in front of him.

They stared at each other until Peyton begun to think that both of them would just grab the other and start making out right there and then. But she banished the thought from her mind as quickly as it came. The thought alone made her squeamish.

"Why Lucas...why every time I think I'm getting somewhere with you. You go and do something like this, first Peyton and now whoever that is. Why won't you ever just let me all the way in" she didn't miss the crack in Brooke's voice as she shoved at his chest viciously. And now the tears that had been lingering in her eyes were as clear as day.

She watched as Lucas's eyebrows knitted together in penitence, she knew that look all to well. It was the Lucas look. This was a look of being in love or maybe it was just her. No, Lucas loved Brooke he had said it himself many times before. He had said it to her and everybody else until he was practically blue in the face.

"Brooke you need to go. I'm sorry" his words caused shock to ripple through her body and she pushed down the spark of hope that had just surged in her gut.

"What does that mean for us then Lucas?" Brooke spoke her voice sounded small and frail.

"I don't really know right now Brooke, I just need some space" ouch, that one was most definitely a punch in the breadbasket. She watched on as Brooke raked a trembling hand through her dark hair quite distressingly, before licking her glossed up lips and wiping away a stray tear that had fallen.

And that was the end of it. Peyton watched with glassy eyes as Brooke all but sprinted away from Lucas and disappeared around the street corner.

Unseen. Much like a spirit of a person who had finished their business on earth and had finally passed on.

Her eyes diverted expectantly to Lucas, half expecting him to chase after her like he always did, to fight for her. But this time he just placed his hands on his hips and cast his eyes down to the ground like he had just discovered something great there. He stayed like that for a while, inside his own thoughts. Peyton was starting to think he'd just stay there the entire day.

She watched him rub at his swollen lips that were stained red by the passion and brutality of her kisses. Then he turned and made towards the wooden swing chair that sat in the corner of the veranda.

Falling into it in defeat.

Not wanting to see anymore, she tugged the curtain shut just as his head begun to turn towards the window. There she stood shock still not knowing what in god's name to do with herself.

She hadn't expected Lucas to act towards Brooke the way he had. She strolled with a swift casualness back over to the bed and slowly resumed the place she had been in, wincing slightly as she did so. It was about twenty seconds later that she heard the door creek open almost cautiously.

"Peyton?" his raspy voice sounded thick with an emotion she couldn't quite place and she felt his presence linger in the doorway for a second before coming to stand directly in front of her.

She didn't answer just blinked up at him blearily, his expression was that of pain and purposefulness. She didn't know if the pain was for her or Brooke but by the way he was gazing at her told her that it was all indeed for her.

Her eyes didn't leave his as he sunk back down to where he had been previously and vigilantly took her trembling hands into his large ones.

That same silence from earlier recommenced and she was not going to be the one to break it, even if her sanity relied on it.

He gave her both her hands a light squeeze just as she was about to pull them away and a perturbed sigh tumbled from his lips. "I'm taking you to the hospital" he uttered strongly and she found her brows creasing, the defiance already starting to build within her.

She wrenched her hands free from his and shook her head petulantly. "No" she spat the hostility dripping from the word like rattle snake venom. His eyes told her what his lips would not. That she ddn't have a say in this, and he wasn't going to argue with her about it.

"Your going" said Lucas his tone demanding yet still pleading with her not to fight him on this. That was when she got the bright idea, she would let him take her and then she would deny it completely. They couldn't make her do anything without her consent and they had no proof is she didn't confirm it. It would teach him a lesson.

Those doctors would have nothing on her.

She made her features drop back down into neutral, a psychotic gesture she knew but if coldness was the only way he responded to her then so be it.

"Ok" she spoke sounding robotic.

"Ok?" He questioned his eyes holding a look of confusion as well as astonishment.

"Yeah...I want you off my back" she hissed jumping to her feet and leaving his bedroom to walk towards his car. He was hot on her heels for obvious reasons after he had found a blue tight fitting cotton long sleeve to throw on of course, she knew apart of him was beginning to seriously question if she was actually starting to go off her rocker and truth be told so was she.

She couldn't control the impulses her body was forcing her to do. It was like she was trapped inside her own head and an intruder, someone that looked like her and spoke like her was making her do all these awful things.

He had watched her carefully the entire car ride there, opening his mouths to bombard her with numerous questions then deciding against it. Stepping on eggshells. She had spent the whole journey glaring briskly out the window and watching her surroundings pass in a blur.

The hospital itself was a cliche, a big white building with thick painted walls that were chipping away from the years of being there and flags of every kind from various places across the world. It was blur, a stressful surreal blur.

She tried her best to look unfazed, she swore she did. But with each step they took towards the hospital she found herself becoming increasingly fraught and her facade started to crack just that little bit more, along with her spirit. It was a mixture of her hatred for hospitals and the ceritude that maybe there really was no getting out of this mixed into one horrible reality. For once she knew she was unable to talk herself out of this situation, it was inevitable.

But it didn't mean she wouldn't give it a shot.

She felt Lucas's strong hand grip firmly onto her arm, in a silent way of asking if she was ok but she stubbornly ignored his fruitless attempt. Then they were moving towards the front desk.

She didn't like the look of the receptionist she looked like a stuck up bitch with glasses that sat right at the end of her nose, and a scowl as chilling as the ice queen herself. It didn't take a genius to know that she didn't want to be there.

"What can I do for you?" her voice was monotonous and it made Peyton want to rip her hair out from boredom.

"Were here to see Dr Morgan I have a appointment booked for Peyton Sawyer this afternoon as an emergency" she wanted nothing more than to hit Lucas right there and then. He was acting like her dad and she hated it.

She watched as the croaky middle aged Joan Rivers look alike made quick work tapping her information in on the computer and before she knew it Lucas was escorting her immediately down to one of the doctors examination rooms. He wasn't kidding when he said it was an emergency appointment.

The doctor was a handsome man with dark hair that was neatly parted he much reminded her of Nathan. He welcomed them both with open arms and the next thing she knew she was slumped in a rather awkward chair.

"Hello Peyton my name is Dr Morgan and..." She didn't let him get another word in pretty much jumping right down his throat.

"I know who you are" she spoke sharply shifting slightly. And could feel Lucas's stare on her.

"Well from what Lucas has told me I understand that you have been a victim of a very serious sexual assault" She didn't even dignify it with an answer merely glanced her eyes to the window forging interest in the outside world. That same anger from before was starting creep back up.

"Peyton I know this is hard for you" she couldn't prevent the scoff that crawled its way out of her throat. Did he? Did he really? She wasn't going to sit there and let some random doctor lay odds on her, get inside her head. This man clearly didn't know what he was talking about.

"You sure about that?" She finally bit out her attention not once wavering from her task of window watching.

"Peyton" she heard Lucas warn similar to the way he had earlier that day in the cafe. "Well were going to run some tests and look to see if there is any damage inside. Then we'll have a rape kit done so we can send any other evidence of to the police and then the rest will be in their hands" her eyes looked between the pair of them, not quite believing what she had just heard.

He wasn't saying what she thought he was saying was he?

Her eyes glazed over with what could only be deemed as complete utter lividity. She didn't have to say anything, no words were needed.

"Peyton by all the information that Lucas has given us its clear that you have indeed been severely sexually attacked, you are in denial which is why you don't want to admit to any of it..." Dr Morgan babbled on.

"No" she cut in but he wouldn't give her a chance. She had, had her say and now it was his turn to analyze her. The sane part of her knew that Dr Morgan was right on every level. But the messed up part screamed at her to fight him, to tell him he had it wrong.

THAT SHE WASN'T ONE OF THEM!

"We as Doctors can't let a situation like this slide without taking it to the police to be closely reviewed..." He continued and that was when she snapped.

"STOP OK, JUST STOP I WASN'T...HE DIDN'T!" she cried out, but the evidence was pretty much right in front of them by the bruises all over her body and he hadn't missed the way she had writhed in pain as she sat down in that chair. Not to mention she could barely say the word.

"Peyton your appearance and lack of mentality proves otherwise, everything you have been experiencing is completely normal because your still in shock. Of course we can't prove anything if you refuse to take the test" he was so calm it was unnerving, she had barely been in there for five minutes and she already could feel reality setting in. Her little fantasy world was breaking and it was breaking fast.

She had heard enough and now all she wanted to do was get the hell out of dodge. She got up so fast that she almost lost her footing. Breaths coming faster. Palms sweating. Heart racing. She wanted it to stop. She needed to make it stop otherwise she was sure she'd die.

She rushed to the exit and grabbed the door handle. "Peyton stop" she heard Lucas say and before she could even think about what she was doing she spun around wildly and all but clawed him in the face leaving behind a bright red mark. She didn't stick around to see his reaction

She ran from the room! Ran from all the things spread out that tore her heart and made her ache worse than any pain she had experienced. She ran out of the hospital and stopped a safe distance away making sure to be unseen by the human eye and there she beat her fists upon an old maple tree. She beat her fists until they ached and blood began to come from the many small cuts; then she flung herself down on the grass and cried - cried ten oceans of tears; for the sixth time that day.

When her tears were over, and her eyes swollen and red, and hurt from the rubbing, she heard soft footsteps coming towards her.

"Peyton" she didn't have to turn around to know who it was, she could always tell when he was there. Like a sixth sense apart of the special bond that they shared. She swiped angrily at any tell tale signs of tears and turned to face him virtually shaking with pique.

How the hell had he even found her?

"Peyton I am so sorry I didn't...I was just trying to..." he kept stopping between what he was going to say, obviously at a loss for words. How could he possibly explain something like this. He'd sold her out, even if he had good intentions for doing so.

"You know what Luke I...I can't ok not now" she gripped fitfully at her disheveled rosy hair and could feel the only ounce of control she had slipping through her fingers. She could feel him watching her closely no doubt trying to figure out what she was feeling.

She needed to hold it together, but she was failing miserably.

"Peyt" he tried again but she shot him a desperate look.

"Please Luke..." her voice failed to stay even and she saw that same flash of spunk from earlier in his eyes, perhaps this would be it. The big revelation. She could feel the words on the tip of her tongue and she was so close it actually hurt.

She watched on weary eyed as Lucas took a few steps towards her, gripping her shoulders gently. "Hey say it. Please" he adjured gripping her chin and making her look up at him.

She searched his intense gape for any sign of surrender but it didn't come and she felt like she had finally come to the conclusion that, that man had indeed raped her.

There was something about the word rape that she didn't like. It was so vulgar and so degrading and yet all that filth, all her self hatred came back to that one single goddamn syllabol.

And it sucked. It sucked a lot.

"I...can't, I can't don't make me, please don't make me" she repeated it over and over again. It was like she was possessed, she fisted the thin material of his top, hell she climbed up him. Manic with the knowledge that this had indeed happened to her.

Sick with the fact that bad luck always had a way of finding her. GOD WHY HER?

"Say it Peyton, you know what he did I know you do" she smacked him again at that. Brutally. This time making sure to drag her nails across his face and then she couldn't stop. She lashed out hitting him with the fury of a wild bear, screaming various I hate you's and he let her. He let her take out everything on him, all that anger, all that sorrow...everything. Deep down common sense told him that she didn't mean any of it, but it still burnt all the same.

His face occasionally contorting up in pain and only when she was physically tired did she stop, collapsing into him and her knees so close to giving out that he physically had to lift her into his arms and carry her all the way back to the car.

She could tell that it hadn't seized to amaze him how her mood had changed so quickly, he honestly hadn't expected anything less. It was all apart of the fucked up stage she was in.

She had finally cracked and it hurt, it hurt a lot.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

The heat of the day had ebbed into a comforting warmth. Dusk was starting to fall, the sun starting to dip lower in the sky until the trees that lined the lane stood as black statues silhouetted against the darkening sky, she hadn't spoken a word to him the entire journey back, no doubt trying to make sense of the whole thing, much like he was. Lucas knew that this was only just the beginning of what was going to be a very awful road indeed.

Her hands were pretty messed up and he mentally reminded himself to take care of that as soon as he got her home and to his room. And not to mention he needed some germoline for the gash she had left on his cheek.

He knew Peyton Sawyer like the back of his own hand, people said that they were like twins and he had always felt an uncanny connection to her, her pain was his own. If he knew Peyton now that she had let everything in she was gonna crumble, she felt pain more powerfully than anyone he had ever known and this was going to push her over the edge. But him being himself refused to let her fall.

He would catch her first.

His mom's car wasn't in the driveway when they finally arrived back so he guessed that she was still hard at work. He carried Peyton up to the front porch, and only then did it register to him how light she had actually become.

She must've lost a good five pounds within the last four days. Maybe this was infinitely out of his hands, maybe he couldn't save her from this but it didn't mean he wouldn't try. He'd try until his heart stopped beating, he knew that now.

That he would do anything for Peyton Sawyer.

Could it be that his mother was right all along? That he was in love with the small, frail and damaged girl in his arms. He didn't know. Once through the threshold he did the same thing, he had done that earlier that day, he took her to his bedroom laying her merticullously down on his bed. He wasn't surprised when he saw two green beads staring up at him when he had put her down, knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep if she wanted to without being tortured within her dreams. She sat up and almost instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, in some sort of defense mechanism. He crouched down to her level reaching out to touch her face.

"I would never hurt you, you know that right?" he husked soothingly, she made no sign that she heard him still just staring at him with those same chilling dead eyes.

He knew that what he had just told her was the biggest lie of all, he already had when he had chosen Brooke over her. The worse part being that he had flaunted it in her face, but to her all that probably seemed so minuscule now compared to everything else. He knew she needed her rest, and no doubt some alone time to figure this all out and begun leaning up to place a chaste kiss on her forehead. But she drew his face down to hers and grazed her lips across his.

For a second, just a second he believed it to be a platonic almost friendly gesture, but it soon begun to escalate just like the events from earlier when Brooke had walked in and he knew he had to stop it before things got to far. It was just a question of if he could.

"Peyt stop...I can't, we can't" he murmured moving from her and to the other side of the dingy lit room to try and create some distance between the apparent sexual tension in the current.

"Because your in love with Brooke" she uttered and he turned to face her his face screwed up in obscurity. "No...I mean yes...I don't..." he stopped short rubbing at his suddenly flustered brow then looked back at her, she looked like she was in agony.

"Don't you want me?" her voice resembled that of a small child and was thick with emotion for sure bordering on the brink of a breakdown. "Not like this" he hadn't meant to hurt her but his choice of words was an obvious punch in the gut. She got up to do what she had done earlier and lock herself in his bathroom again but he grabbed her turning her to face him.

"Shit I'm sorry I didn't, I didn't mean it like that Peyt ok" he stated almost inaudibly but she shied away from his touch instantly causing a sinking feeling to form in his gut. He almost looked away from her not being able to cope with the pain written all over her face, and he was sure that her expression reflected his own.

They lapsed back into a silence and out of no where she just broke. She didn't break quietly either and too say it scared Lucas was an understatement, it invoked the fear of god in him.

He watched on trapped in his own silent little distressed state, wishing he could help her. Wishing he could be strong enough for the both of them. But he shouldn't have to carry that burden and neither should she.

They were just kids. It wasn't fair.

No one should have to experience or be exposed to that sort of emotional trauma.

"That man he..." the words got trapped in her throat and she shook her head feverishly in hopes that if she denied the past even farther that it might just change it completely. A strangled lament tore free from her throat as her eyes shone brightly with droplets. His gullet begun to ache agonizingly and he too felt his eyes swell with rivers. "He raped me."

Her hand flew to her stomach almost like she was going to be physically ill and her red rimmed eyes pleaded with him to make it stop. He had never seen her in so much emotional pain before and to say he felt hopeless was an understatement. He felt lost. So lost.

"Oh God make it stop, please make it stop...it hurts" she bawled incoherently, flailing her hands almost deliriously and it was enough that it had him pulling her into a fierce envelop. There it was, the final strap that had broken the camels back. She had finally admitted it but he didn't feel justice like he thought he would in fact it was the complete opposite.

The anger was consuming him in red blotchets of fiery hate. He wanted to know who had done this and why. Why had this monster decided to inflict so much pain on her for his own gain.

She hadn't done anything to him, she was innocent, pure and he bet he knew that. He wanted him to rot, to burn anything that would be cruller than death. Death would be to kind. He was snapped out of his reverie by Peyton's palpitated voice again.

"Please" she whimpered starting to place feather light kisses to the under side of his jaw, her lips grazing over his stubble.

"Peyton" he exorted but it did nothing to stop the task she had so thoughtlessly created.

"Please" she repeated letting out a small desperate moan. Her gentle hand trailing a path down his stomach and slipping into his pants to give him a light squeeze. He let out an involuntary grunt and the next thing he knew his hands were tangling knuckle deep into the mass that was her pink hair and he tugged slightly trying to make her look at him. But she didn't stop her erratic task, her lips pecked the corner of his mouth and he found his eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of it alone. Then they were closing over his, she sucked on his bottom lip first before moving to his top, then eventually took them both between hers.

This girl was going to be the death of him. He couldn't find it in himself to deny her a second time. He wanted to stop, he really did but his heart wouldn't let him. It felt like something he had only experienced in his dreams.

The sexual tension had been there from the first moment he had ever spoken to her and you know what they say once bitten twice shunned. They hadn't made it in the hotel room and they most definitely were not going to make it now.

He didn't respond at first, that is until she pushed her tongue into his mouth without much of a fight and the taste of her was his undoing. She tasted of sweet vanilla and peppermint. Her scent was an intoxicating drug to him and he couldn't get enough of her. He knew it was selfish but when he looked over his life all he saw was selflessness, constantly putting other peoples needs above his own. Who could blame him for wanting to be selfish with her.

He gave into his desires and hoisted her into the air without breaking the embrace. Laying her gently on the bed his lips starting to place hot open mouthed kisses to every inch of her body, her cheeks, her neck, her chest, her breasts. He did that the whole time of hitching the little black number she was wearing up around her waist.

His manhood was throbbing painfully at that point. She leaned up to pull his top from his body her hands shaking so bad that he had to help her and then he was back on her his lips kissing her bruisingly with a mixture of teeth and tongue and bucking himself against her entrance to try and get some heated friction going. A burst of pleasure twisting in his stomach and spreading all through his body creating something that was warm and tingly.

He had never wanted anyone so badly.

He caught himself wondering if all of this was real, or nothing more than some grim nocturnal emissions, like he had experienced many times about Peyton Sawyer in his life.

She sucked at the spot right at the juncture of his neck. the spot only she knew of and the spot that Brooke was yet to discover. He let out a soft moan matching that of hers.

When he had been thinking of his future a weeks ago prior, he had so not imagined adultery again being on the table. He had always sworn that he would wait for her and when he couldn't wait any longer he got with Brooke. But there was always that pull towards Peyton like a moth drawn to a flame. He needed her as much as she needed him. Two halves made of the same whole.

This was so not how he had imagined his first time with her to be like, desperate and frenzied instead of steady and passionate. He always thought for them it would be one of the most perfect days of his life. This wasn't just going to be sex to him it would mean so much more.

He wanted to make love to her, even if that wasn't what she wanted to call it. He all but yanked off her panties and she dementedly pushed his jeans down his legs, before wrapping herself around him.

He watched with lidded eyes as he sunk inside her, drunk with the feeling of being connected to her body and soul in such an intimate way. To feel her warmth. To be embedded deeply within her heat. It was all to much and emotions were most definitely running at an all new peak.

She was so tight it hurt them both.

And it was then and only then did he realized that he could quite literally feel the evidence of what that bastard had done to her inside and her bleat of discomfort almost had him pulling out for good. But he couldn't stop for the life of him and neither could she.

It was like they were bewitched, apart of a spontaneous combustion burning up with one another. A groan of her name crawled its way out of his throat and he suck refuge by holding onto the wooden headrest of the bed.

It was like she wanted, no needed to feel the pain like some sort of confirmation that it was real. Trying to put the pieces together in her mind.

He pulled out almost completely before hedonistically burying himself back inside her, the feeling was devine. Hot, wet and her. All her.

They moved together at a gentle pace at first, each of them consumed by what they felt for the other. Then it started to get more frantic, more desperate. The only sound in the small room was skin to skin contact and their cries of pleasure.

He watched her eyes scrunch shut and tears fell from the corners. She didn't get to use him like this and then exclude him. It wasn't going to happen, a vehemal cry tore from her throat when he hit a particular sweet spot, her eyes flying open filled with such intense pleasure that it turned him on even more. Her nails raked his back so hard that he was sure he had claw marks embedded deep inside his skin. He watched with pure lust as she bit her soft pink lips and he found himself tearing hungrily at her chest ripping the garment of her dress down to reveal her breasts.

He took one of the swollen pearls into his mouth and nipped and sucked at it, his rhythm becoming more hurried as he came closer to his edge.

His feelings for her had more than boiled heatedly to the surface and he was at the point of no return. He could feel the tension rising in his spine and knew that he was on the brink of his climax. The pace he had set quickened and he was deaf to her gasps of rapture, the only implication was her nails digging into his back.

Her walls clamped around him tightly, her breathing becoming much more shallow and uneven and he felt himself spurt his seed within her, a deep groan escaping his mouth, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead to hers, just coming down from his high. But when he opened them his breath caught in his throat, she wasn't looking at him at all, her eyes were far off. Almost like she was there but not there at the same time.

"Peyt?" He brought his hand up to frame her face in an attempt to break her out of the trance, but she moved her head away and proceeded to get him of her. "Hey Peyt calm down its me, its me" his voice begun to crack. He knew exactly what was about to happen next.

"Get. Off. Me" she seethed smacking him across the face for what seemed to be the one hundredth time that day, the shock sent him recoiling from her. It felt like he had just been shot in the heart, hell he wished he had been, anything to stop the pain those words had just brought him. It reminded him why he had chose Brooke to begin with, this was exactly what he had been afraid of.

He slowly pulled his jeans back up, making sure that everything was back in place and sealed them around his waist with the clip of a button.

He could hear her ragged and disturbed breaths filling the room and glanced up at her the tears shining in both their eyes. He had never felt so used in his whole life and he had let it happen because he wanted to help her.

Hell he was possibly in love with her and that made things hurt a hell of a lot more. "Did I hurt you?" The words fell from his lips without so much of a consious thought.

Her eyes held nothing but droplets and a glare as cold as the Antarctic. She moved to walk past him but he gripped her arm desperately. She didn't look at him simply ripped her arm from his touch and was gone like the wind.

He stood in the silent grips of panic and bafflement.

He had experienced this kind of heartbreak before, on the night of Dan's tribute dinner. She was rejecting him all over again. Clearly it had meant more to him than it did her.

Once the initial shock wore off, he threw on the top he had been wearing earlier and was about to go in search of her. But when he turned his stomach tied up in knots, his face starting to burn so torridly he thought he'd pass out.

There in the door frame stood his mom, her face was beyond just red, and was turning different shades of crimson and even a tinge purple, while sort of an unearthly, demonic look over came her. her breathing was strange, her anger towards him lighting up the air, giving him a cold jolt in his chest - fear.

Now he was in for it.

"Lucas Eugene Scott you better start talking"

* * *

 **Authors Note: Oh lord. Bet you lot didn't see that one coming, I thought I'd throw in a little heated surprise. Since I am going to be exploring the promiscuity side to rape I felt this deemed suitable to this chapter and it will be very important later on in the story. Let me know your thoughts about this chapter, pop me a review. The broken door was not addressed this chapter but next chapter it most definitely will be. I know it seems like Peyton is turning into some sort of slut and truth be told she is falling fast. She feels so worthless and dirty that her mind has her believing that she's only good for one thing as well as wanting to prove to her rapist that he hasn't won. She is quite literally using Lucas at the moment to make the pain go away, which is why she left so abruptly because now that she's let it all in its to much. Do you think Lucas made the right call?**

 **SPOILERS: Will Karen let Lucas see Peyton? Peyton begins to crumble now that she's finally admitted it and ultimately flies of the handle, I'll give you a hint it involves the comet. Lucas is wracked with guilt and self loathing. Keith makes an appearance.**

 **P.S: I've decided to move my updates Tuesdays instead. Please review and thank you for all your already supportive reviews!**

 **Thanks.**


	7. Chapter 7

**With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers : Chapter 7**

Title: With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers

Author(s): Blondiiee

Pairing/Characters: Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer

Rating: M

Warnings: heavy sexual situations

Summary: What was once simple, is now complex. What Peyton once loved—who she once loved—she now hates. What she thought she knew to be true, is now lies. Nothing makes sense anymore, and she knows she's supposed to tell someone what happened but she can't. So she buries it instead. And she buries the way she used to be. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason.

 **Chapter 7**

 _Once the initial shock wears off, he throws his quick to find the top he'd been wearing earlier and is about to go in search of her. But when he turns his stomach forms knots, his face starts to burn so torridly he thinks he'll pass out._

 _There in the door frame stands his mom, her face is beyond just red, and is turning different shades of crimson and even a tinge purple, while sort of an unearthly, demonic look over comes her. her breathing is strange, her anger towards him lighting up the air, and providing him with the unwelcome sensation of cold jolting in his chest - pure and utter fear._

 _Now he is in for it._

 _"Lucas Eugene Scott you better start talking"_

He knows she's serious by the way she has just used his full name and it scares the devil out of him.

"Mom I…I have to..." he begins but what he is about to say gets trapped right in the walls of his throat and he finds himself casting his eyesight to the floor in the wake of his shame. He shouldn't have done what he did he knows that much, but that's not to say that he hadn't wanted it because he had and now standing here with his mother looking at him so crestfallen quite literally makes him want to die right then and there.

He holds his breath at the crisp gleam that shines in his mother's beady eyes, knowing exactly what is about to follow.

"Lucas tell me you haven't done what I think you just did" she scolds, folding her arms across her chest in that parental way that warns all children when their moms are at the point where they want to skin you alive. It doesn't take a genius to know what has just transpired a just five minutes ago from the flustered, perspired state both he and Peyton are in.

Her eyes are bulging out their sockets and he can't get the words to come out of his mouth for the life of him. He has never felt so small in his life.

"I..." is all he can seem to croak out and his voice is pathetically hoarse.

"Lucas?" she has a more harder, biting edge to her tone now and he has never in his life wanted to run as far away from his her as possible like he does now. "Y...Yes" the words taste filthy on his tongue and he feels as though he will throw up from the perturbation churning in his guts.

He welcomes the stinging sensation that suddenly festers on his cheek from his mother's palm with open arms because he knows he more than deserves it. There is so much torment and confusion in her eyes, it breaks his heart to know what sort of position he is putting her in with this whole Peyton plight.

"Are you stupid?" she hisses as he hangs his head so he doesn't have to look into her chagrined eyes.

"LUCAS THAT POOR GIRL HAS JUST BEEN ATTACKED AND THEN YOU GO AND DO SOMETHING AS THOUGHTLESS AS TO HAVE SEX WITH HER. I'M ASHAMED OF YOU!" she screams at him inching intimidatingly closer, he wants to defend his case, make her understand but deep down inside him he knows that there is nothing he can say that will make this right, he has screwed up and he has screwed up big.

"Mom..." He chokes out, but she cuts him off fiercely. "Especially when your in a relationship with her best friend. Well I'll tell you what Lucas once we have her back here your not going near her, at least not for a while. I can't trust you with her not after what you just pulled" that very statement has him panicking and throws his already muddled mind into overdrive, she can't do this to them, to him. There is no way in hell she is going to keep them apart, not when she is like this.

She needs him and he needs her so much that it physically hurts. "No mom i'm not gonna let you do this, she needs me" His voice is shaky, barely covering the sob that is about to break out. He keeps his voice low and speaks slowly to relay a sense of steadiness, like the calm before a storm of grief. "No Lucas the last thing Peyton needs is more confusion" she hisses ready to turn her back on him but he pipes up again, and the frantic pleading in his tone causes her to turn back towards him. He watches her his face wary and body tense choosing his next words carefully.

"She finally admitted it you know" he utters his eyes training back to their original spot on the floor.

"What?" she queries her demeanour completely icy, it is the first time he has ever seen his mom look at him with such disgrace on her tranquil and pretty features. He doesn't understand why she is asking him such a stupid question, had it not been obvious what he meant, they have spent the entire day trying to get it out of her.

"I took her to the hospital and she freaked. She ran off and I found her crying by the big maple tree, she denied it then but when we got home I guess she finally cracked. She was in so much pain mom" the last part came out as a whisper, a silent plea for his mother to understand his intentions.

"Oh yeah was that before or after you slept with her?" he flinches at the brutality of his mother's words, she doesn't understand. She makes out like she does but she doesn't get the primal instinct to protect Peyton from entities that could be a potential threat to her, to save her from the things that go bump in the night. She doesn't know the attraction that comes with being in just a single spitting distance of that girl, it doesn't matter whether he has a girlfriend or not because it is always Peyton and he knows that now. God he has to go end things properly with Brooke, when he gets the chance.

He risks meeting his mother's gaze a defiant look gracing his facade. "I'm not explaining myself to you mom ok, once upon a time no matter how much you and I hate Dan, if Dan had been in a serious situation you would've jumped at the chance to save him and you'd do the same thing for Uncle Keith. Now I'm going out there and I'm going to find Peyton because god knows where she is or what she's about to walk into. I'm not asking you to like it mom just accept it" he rambles on, probably not making much sense.

"Ok Luke, you go out, you go find her and when you do you bring her back here and I will figure out from there how we move forward because I will not have you thinking it's ok to take advantage of her being in such a fragile state" she jabbers heatedly.

He covers his eyes with his palms in aggravation, turning away from her sharply. Then he turns back towards her his frustration at his mother reaching all new levels with every passing moment that she throws accusations in his face. "LOOK I DIDN'T TAKE ADVANTAGE OF HER OK!" he can't stop. His mom has drawn up the conclusion in her head that he is a sex crazed horny teenager who doesn't seem to understand his emotions or the gravity of situations.

Her idea of the world is that girls grow up much faster than boys, which means they matures faster. But he isn't like that, he tries his best to be genuine, to treat women with respect just like she had raised him to, to be everything that won't make him his father. But if he is such a better man than Dan then why did he make such an impulsive decision to have sex with her just because she was in pain, no...no way it isn't like that, this is his mom getting inside his head like she always does. Sure he made the wrong call but it would've happened regardless of whether Peyton was attacked or not because they are that physically attracted to each other as well as emotionally.

He simply done what any man in love would've in his situation, try and save the girl he loves. It appears he as well as Peyton finally had some admitting to do and he os more than ready to finally open up about what he has been feeling for her all this time but had felt to scared to voice.

"I love her mom" he confesses certainly, and suddenly that dark weight that he hasn't been able to shake for three months straight finally lifts like a resurrected bird from his shoulders. She doesn't look surprised and her expression doesn't falter. He knows he is just telling her stuff that she and everybody else have known from the start and he is running out of options. Truth be told she has every right to keep him away from Peyton, it's what he deserves. It takes her twenty seconds to wrap her head around the information before any words are coming from her mouth.

"Jesus Lucas I can't risk you doing this again don't you get that. You need to give her a chance to heal and that's not going to happen with the two of you together" she tells him, her manner towards him softening ever so slightly and his never been so grateful.

"You can't do this to me mom ok, you can't do this to her. She's not going to get the chance to heal if I'm not there to protect her" he all but pleads a lump starting to tighten it's way in his throat, there is no way he is about to cry in front of his mother. It is almost like a boy having his favourite toy taken away from him somehow, accept it was much more deeper. He watches her open her mouth to speak but is stopped by the turning of the front door handle, for a second his hopes pitch an all new high as the idea that it is Peyton shoots through his mind, but the hope is short lived when his Uncle Keith drenched with rain and clad in a dark brown hunters jacket, back from his little trip out on the road to Charleston steps into view. He hasn't changed one bit, still sporting that slight stubble but it's the tiredness in his normally burnt sienna eyes that catches him of guard a little.

Time stops for a moment as mother and son gaze at the man they haven't seen in two weeks, there is a brief moment where nothing happens and the tension hangs sky high, then Karen lets a forced smile that doesn't fool Lucas, or Keith for that matter tug at her mouth. She walks up to him to engulf him in a warm amorous hug quite obviously not caring that she'll get wet in the process, it never seizes to amaze him how she can always put on a brave face despite the bleakness of a situation.

"Oh Keith it's so good to see you, I'm so glad your home" Keith returns the embrace with no reluctance, but his eyes stay trained on his nephew the whole time. Taking note of his unsettled appearance and no doubt sensing that he has just walked into something that is quite intense.

"Lucas hi how are you son?" Keith queries hesitantly as he moves to take him in his arms, in any normal circumstance he would've welcomed Keith home with open arms but apart of him is too cut up by the fact that Keith hasn't been there when he needed him the most, he has been off doing god knows what with god know who off in Charleston. He takes a step back, his eyes looking to the door Keith had entered from, his impulse to find Peyton is mounting, how are they all just standing there right now? He goes to move past Keith and his mom, but Keith stops his haste with a firm hand.

"Lucas, what's going on why are you acting up like this, come give your uncle a hug" he shakes viciously out of his uncle's grip, and backs up towards the door. "I'm going to find Peyton" is all he mutters and then he is out the door and walking across the timothy grass to his car. His pace quickens when he hears the front door of his house slam and the sound of Keith calling after him, no doubt ready to follow him.

It is chucking it down outside now, a great contrast from the heat it had been only hours earlier. But he doesn't care, he can't care.

"Get lost Keith this is something I have to do on my own" he shouts through the heavy gale mentally cursing himself for the crack in his voice. He hears the scuff of his shoes as he come to halt on the tarmac path behind him.

"Look son i'm coming with you whether you like it or not. I don't care what your mother has done but you don't treat her that way and you most definitely do not treat me that way. Now I don't know what's going with you or your mom or Peyton and why you have such a need to find Peyton but you are going to tell me whilst were out searching for her, you understand" Lucas has to rear back a bit, his uncle's words had made him more than dizzy, he has never been able to understand how Keith was always able to get more than one sentence in using just one breath.

He recovers like a champ and swallows thickly at a loss for words. All that he can do in this moment is no more than bob his head to show that he understands.

He fishes his keys out of his back jean pocket and unlocks his car. He moves around to the passenger seat and without thinking tossing the keys at Keith. He is to tired to drive anywhere, emotionally drained if you will. He just wants to find Peyton and figure all of this out and pray that his mom let's him close enough to apologise to her.

The drive over to Peyton's house is silent to begin with but as the tension in the air increases between the two it's hard for one of them not to break it. That one of them is Keith. "So you wanna tell me what happened?" Keith asks hastily, but Lucas stubbornly continues to watch the world pass in a blur of flashing lights.

"Luke I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on" Keith attempts for the second time but Lucas isn't having any of it, it isn't his place to tell him what has happened to Peyton. He had only simply chosen to tell his mom because he was scared and hadn't known what to do, but he would take it back in a heartbeat if he could.

And the worst part of all is the guilt, the guilt at the knowledge that everything his mother had said to him had been dead on. So he shut the subject down quickly before it all became to much for him.

"It not important right now Keith, what's important is finding Peyton and bringing her home" the terror in itself at the thought of losing her is overwhelming to him, if he can just think straight for one fucking second then maybe, just maybe he'd be able to run through the list of various places Peyton could be.

Keith says no more about it after that and the silence drags on until they were pulling up on the Sawyer residence. "Jesus what happened to her door did someone break in?" Lucas lets out an uneasy huff, opening the door to the passenger side but not getting out yet.

"No break in, just me and Nate" he doesn't care if it doesn't make sense, he has enough problems to deal with and honestly Keith is only adding to it. He has tried his hardest not to be infuriated by his uncle's presence but he is like a fly he can't swat, and he can't help but think it would have been so much quicker to just do this alone. He climbs out of the seat and proceeds towards her house. It is cold, untouched, empty not a place he'd like to find himself alone, it is like all the homeliness that had ever existed in the place has been sucked down into a void of darkness and now all that is left is it's remains. From the look of the place he can tell that she wouldn't of come here.

His need to find her begins to heighten again to the point that it's actually unbearable, she had given him a chance at letting him in and he'd blown it. He had always thought that to love someone was to lightly run your finger over that person's soul until you find a crack, then gently pour your love into that crack, at least that's how his mom use to explain it to him when he was a kid. But he has completely gone against that, he has chosen to be selfish in the one moment he was supposed to be selfless.

He's fucked up.

He runs his vision around the area quite frantically. His face shows distress and as he closes his eyes, drops make the journey down his face. He has wiped them so much they are swollen. When he goes to look around, his vision is clouded; and it's too difficult for him to see clearly.

It feels to him as though she has quite literally been wiped off the face of the earth, she is just gone.

"Jesus Christ Peyt where are you?"

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPL

Rain pours from the twilight cloak of heaven pelting down like hail stones on Peyton's bare back, but she doesn't care. She is back to being numb, which is how it should've been from the start. How exuberantly alive she should feel to finally be free. But no joy is ever present, as she walks hastily in the direction of anywhere that Tree fucking Hill, pale, sick and very frightened by what she sees. The minutes pass with the miles, but she doesn't care where she winds up just as long as it means she's gone from the town of her imprisonment. If she had been thinking rationally she would of at least chalked up the common sense to get her car, but she is not in her correct state of mind. She begins to relax - a little. As she moves she registered how sore she feels, after what she has just done with Lucas.

No...no she isn't going to let those thoughts possess her, she wants him the hell out of her head because his the last person she wants to see, hear or think about.

The fresh air perfumed with roses was not the kind of air she'd grown to expect as the kind she deemed worthy for such as her. It was too good for her.

All that aside she will figure out what she'll do with her car when she's one hundred percent certain Lucas doesn't have a tail on her. And then and only then will she sneak back, take her car and drive it to the middle of no where to smash the thing up herself. She just wants it gone, it is a reminder of all the pain and grief she has felt in her sorry little life. It had belonged to her mother before her and now it belonged in the car cemetery.

She hasn't realised how far she has come until she finds herself on a serene southern highway just outside of town. A driver honks once in acknowledgement of her, then slams on his brakes, laying forty feet of rubber before he hits her. He is out almost before his little green Toyota has stopped, a big, rangy fellow with long flaxen hair descending out from under a Sea Dogs baseball cap.

He runs towards her, meaning to skirt the dump she has found herself walking into.

"What the hell lady" he cries, "What in the blue fu-" Then he strucks something. Hard. There is nothing there, but Peyton see's the guy's nose snap to the side as it breaks. The man rebounded from the nothing, bleeding from the mouth, nose, and forehead. He fell on his back, then struggles to a sitting position. He stares at Peyton with dazed, wonderful eyes as blood from his nose and mouth cascaded down the front of his work shirt and Peyton stares back.

She stands tense, ready to scream if one more bad thing happens. Like a coil fuse attached to a time bomb, she knows that sooner or later she will explode and bring down all those who live in Tree Hill. It is one of the reasons why she has to leave. She prays that just once God will have some mercy on her. The boy gets up and dusts of his immerse muddy jeans, then begins wiping the blood from his nose and lip. She thought he'd broken it, she thought wrong. Apparently his tougher than he looks.

He gapes at her long and hard for a few seconds before she sees the recognition dawn on his features. Does she know him, because he clearly knows her.

"Hey I know you, I've seen you around town before" her eyes squint not quite understanding how this stranger knows her, she catches herself wondering if he is one of them for a second and begins to form plans to retreat.

"I'm Donny Stewart" he grins, watching her, aware that he has made her squirm, even if he doesn't know the reason behind it. Well he didn't have a Swedish accent like her rapist so that had to count for something right?

As she inspects him she finds she has the chance to appreciate his appearance more. Donny appears to be no older than her and underneath all the rain,blood and dirt she can tell that he is strikingly handsome, with long, waving blond hair that just touched his shoulders, then curl upwards currently being soaked by the storm they stand in. His darkly fringed blue eyes rival the colour of a winter sky.

His straight and finely shaped nose has taken on the strength and maturity that promises to make him all that a man should be - the type of man to make every woman's heart flutter when he looks her way, or even when he doesn't. His expression is still confident even though he has blood running down his nose; he almost looks happy. He reminds her of Lucas, and by God she swears he serves as the cure to fix everything.

In any other account this would be a typical cliché, a little girl lost and alone in the big wide world then a handsome stranger with all the answers would swoop her off her feet and carry her away on a big white horse. To bad this isn't a fairy tale. Someone else's American dream, her nightmare.

He stares at her for long moments, as if disbelieving his eyes, and such beautiful blue eyes they are. She knows she must look strange, in nothing but a small black number in such a downpour. He appears dazed, slightly drunk and much to sleepy to put on his mask that will keep him from darting his eyes from her face to her breasts, then to her legs before he is scanning slowly upward. He is enchanted by her face and her baker-miller pink hair.

He shakes his head as though to focus his eyes before a keen glint lights them ablaze. "Your like a dream" he drawls out quite forwardly, could this be another perv alert? She doesn't know if she has it in her to care anymore. It is too late little too late, the damage has already been done by another sex hungry beast.

Slowly she approaches and stops a few steps away from him. "You sweet talking me?" she's going for sweet and seductive and she knows that her smart retort has already begun to work wonders.

"Perhaps I am" he openly flirts and she feels her skin crawl, but it's just like she predicted...exactly what she needs. "So you gonna tell me your name?" he queries and she shrugs nonchalantly, "that depends are you gonna give me a ride?" she asks and suddenly the air feels chillier, she swaddles her arms around herself in an attempt to preserve the heat in her body and when she exhales she can see her own breath. Cold lips cold heart is what her mind screams at her and it's on a constant loop.

"Where ya headed?" he drawled out. That was good question, where was she going?

She doesn't even know. "I...I dunno" she murmurs so quietly that he has to strain to hear her. "Well hop in let me take you somewhere" he deadpans turning towards his van and opening the door to get in. She stands frozen, seemingly super glued to her spot. Mentally asking herself if this is a indeed a wise decision to make. Had she not learnt from the last time?

She looks down at herself and swallows thickly. "Hey you coming or what?" he shouts and she instantly snapped out of the daze, nodding her head obligingly. He observes her as she makes her way over to the passenger side and opens the door. It feels like a dream, like she is out of control and can not keep up with her impulsive activity.

Why is she doing this? Perhaps it is wanting to feel something other than the pain. Maybe recklessness is the only way forward now. She slams the door shut so hard the car shakes from the initial impact and doesn't even bother buckling herself in, just stares straight out the window looking into the clear night sky because as far as she is concerned Tree Hill is no home of hers anymore. Donny repeats her actions and then his putting the keys into ignition, the engine roars to life, and the the song "Oh Susanna" cracks softly through the radio in a sweet melancholy voice that touches her heart, tears begin to blur her vision and the dreaded lump burns like a tight rope in her throat.

Her mother's favorite song. What are the odds?

She sends a silent prayer up to her mother pleading for repentance for her impulsive and out of control behaviour. But even she knows that it's inevitable. She can't stop, not even if she wants to. Light cannot exist without darkness, each has its purpose. And if there is a purpose to her darkness maybe its to bring some balance to the world.

Her devil has danced with its demon and the fiddler's tune is far from over.

* * *

 **Authors Note: Next chapter is going to be pretty hectic. We'll see Lucas continue his search for Peyton and Peyton fall of the wagon. A lot of stuff in this chapter coming is hugely based on what happened to me. I did go on a three day bender and my boyfriend and his dad found me in a house I can barely remember. All I remember is the throwing up part and loads of people doing drugs or having sex. Next chapter will be very dark just as a warning. Please review I love hearing what you think and thank you for any previous reviews.**

 **Thanks.**


	8. Chapter 8

**With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers : Chapter 8**

Title: With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers

Author(s): Blondiiee

Pairing/Characters: Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer

Rating: M

Warnings: heavy sexual situations

Summary: What was once simple, is now complex. What Peyton once loved—who she once loved—she now hates. What she thought she knew to be true, is now lies. Nothing makes sense anymore, and she knows she's supposed to tell someone what happened but she can't. So she buries it instead. And she buries the way she used to be. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason.

 **Chapter 8**

Three days, three days it had been since Peyton had skipped out on him. Three days of waiting and willing. Seventy two excruciating hours of almost obsessively searching and Lucas has still not given up, his enthralled with guilt of what he's done to her, his own mother can barely stand the sight of him and now he is not only lying to his uncle but also his close friends...and Brooke.

She has the biggest right to know out of all of them, a side from Larry of course.

The bottom line is he can't sleep, he can't eat and it is beginning to destroy him. "Fuck" Lucas snarls as he viciously shoves the books that have previously been neatly stacked up on his desk to the floor. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take, not seeing her not being able to physically tell if she's ok, it's driving him to the point of insanity. When did he become this person, when did he start hating what he saw when he looked in the mirror.

In the last three days the only time Lucas had left the house had been to look for Peyton and to fix her door with his Uncle Keith. School had been a different story and he was afraid with the more time off he took, the less chance he had of graduating.

The light streaming in from outside is killing him, it is frying his howling brain. But he doesn't let it stop him, too late for that now.

He grips the silver crucifix necklace that belongs to Peyton from his desk. It is one of the items she had left behind from the last time she was there, when things had been as normal as it could be.

Before the whole rape supervene.

"Lucas" he hears his mother's uneasy voice slice through the air.

He lets out an exasperated groan and shifts his seat so he can face his mothers worried gaze from the doorway. They participate in a staring match for a while until she finally huffs and moves from said place to take a seat on his bed opposite to where he is sitting. "Lucas don't you think you should stop for a while, your making yourself sick. She'll come back when she's ready, were all worried about her and I know..." He feels his blood begin to boil, the annoyance borderline anger twisting inside of him like a burst of phoenix force fire. He is just about on the brink of exploding.

He is fed up with hearing that statement. He looks up squinting his eyes against the hateful light.

"She's not herself" he snaps much harsher than he intends it to come out. But she doesn't understand, she made out like she did but the reality is she really doesn't. He is a fool for telling her, he had been stupid enough to think that he could trust her and now she only saw him as a selfish horny teenager with an infatuation for a certain damaged blond, or should that be candy cotton head?

"Lucas I'm not trying to upset you I just think that you should let that poor girl alone for a minute to give her time to -" that is the moment that it all gets to him, he shoots up out of his chair knocking it over in the process.

"I don't wanna hear this" Lucas interjects vehemently as he starts pacing the small space that is his bedroom "Peyton has been alone her whole life and the one time she needed me I wasn't there ok...do you understand how that feels for me mom. Now the longer that she's missing, the more trouble she could be getting herself into" He finishes solemnly, his mother looks dimly alarmed. And so she has every right to be Peyton and Lucas together are what some people would call a complicated but powerful relationship. They are drawn together and can't pull away. Before her, he didn't know what it was like to be happy. To be fulfilled. To be complete.

They both love each other with a passion that consumed them. For him, she's the best thing that has ever happened to him in his life. For her, he is the one that defines her, her soulmate and that scares Karen more than she lets on, she's more than aware of the control that, that girl has over her son and it's a danger within itself. Lucas would die for her gladly one thousand times and she would do the same for him.

It is almost like the two can feel what the other is feeling, like they are completely connected. A sire bond if you will. But they're broken, she's broken and there not a thing in the world anyone can do fix it.

Not even him.

Which is why they need to be separate from each other just until Peyton can see sense and think clearly.

His mother gives him a small gracious smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. That look alone tells him that she is still beyond troubled by the events that had materialized in this very room a three days ago. Hell so is he.

"Lucas she needs time"

"How do you know what she needs?" He deadpans.

"How dare you show such blatant disrespect to me Lucas, I am your mother and you are my child. If anyone clearly doesn't know what she needs it's you because you were stupid enough to sleep with the girl while she is so vulnerable" the words roll off her tongue as something bitter and fit to be spit out.

"Your never gonna let that go are you. I don't know how many times I can apologise" he says stiffly, his control about to break.

"I never asked you to Luke, but when you do find her I promise you one thing. I will not sit around and watch as you confuse her more and more, I meant what I said to you...once we have her back your not seeing her for a while" he stops pacing, as pure black and white panic begins to grip his insides like an iron fist.

"YOU CAN'T DO THAT TO HER, YOU CAN'T DO THAT TO ME!" He has finally flipped. That spoilt little boy feeling is most definitely coming back to hit it home. He is acting the child, the impulsive, impatient child his mother has always warned him not to be.

"Well unfortunately Lucas you don't get a say in that, she deserves better!" She replies eerily calm.

"What are you saying I'm not good enough for her, what the hell is that suppose to mean?" He should've known better than to step to his mother, she is the woman that bore him. The woman that brought him into the world, who is he to question her.

But being in love with Peyton would make any man do crazy, reckless and stupid things.

Perhaps she is a siren or Aphrodite's protégé.

"The way you've treated Peyton this past year Lucas has been despicable. You have toyed with that girls heart and left her high and dry so many times I can't count. Your dating her best friend they are girls not objects Lucas." She hisses in a choked tone that he hadn't expected and he can tell that his thoughtless words are really starting to get to his mother.

Fair enough he had deserved that one, when he looks back on his relationship with Peyton it's been full of nothing but force hope, longing looks and stolen kisses only to end with heartbreak, for all he knew it could be his fault that she was attacked the way she was.

No.

He can't let himself think like that, it is no ones fault. It is that scumbags fault and he will get his eventually, when the time comes.

"And I care about Brooke but she...she's not..." She beats him to the punch and his momentarily baffled by how well she knows him. Mother's don't lie when they say they know every inch of you.

"Peyton" she finishes for him "You can't just keep stringing people along like that Lucas, that is not how the world works. You can't just push people and expect them not to pull away or push back and the sooner you learn that my boy the better. You are seventeen years old so you don't get a say so in how I choose to handle this situation?" She tells him, he swallows thickly and his lips twitch slightly. His not taking that.

It's bullshit.

"I WANNA HELP. SHE WON'T LET ANYONE HELP HER UNLESS IT'S ME. I GOT HER TO GO TO THE DOCTORS TODAY MOM AIN'T THAT A GOOD SIGN. I CAN TAKE CARE OF HER! NOW CAN YOU STOP CRYING?" His temper has finally seized control of him and his like a man possessed.

"YOU CAN BARELY TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF! WHAT...WHAT TAKING ADVANTAGE OF HER IS HELPING HER LUCAS, IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK?" She cries the river finally beginning to seep its way out of her blue eyes. Eyes that he has inherited.

"OK YOU KNOW WHAT MOM, SEPARATING ME AND PEYTON RIGHT NOW IS NOT AN OPTION. I WILL MOVE OUT OF HERE AND I WILL TAKE CARE OF HER MYSELF BACK AT HER HOUSE IF I HAVE TO...IF IT'LL GER YOUR CLAWS OUT OFF MY BACK!" He flares immediately. He is desperate now and throwing out anything that will help her see his side of the table.

"DON'T YOU DARE THREATEN ME LUCAS EUGENE SCOTT!" She screams, her face completely beetroot red. He has to look away, he can't stand the sight of his mom in tears especially not when he is the cause of them. But he can't stop for the life of him and before he knows it another vexed retort has found its way out of his mouth.

"CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE! I WISH I HADN'T TOLD YOU IT WOULD'VE MADE THINGS SO MUCH EASIER FOR HER AND FOR ME!" He shouts making sure to let a sarcastic and bitter smile split his face. It is either that or have a complete meltdown. He doesn't like this one bit, they've never argued like this. His mom has always been his hero and now that their at each others throats it's unsettling to say the least.

"OH REALLY. WHY SO YOU COULD FUCK HER WITHOUT FEELING GUILTY FOR DOING IT BECAUSE THAT WAS WAY OUT OF LINE MY BOY AND THAT WE BOTH KNOW!" He goes dead inside, stunned into silence. Frozen and cold. His mom rarely cursed which is why it comes as such a shock when she does.

She's making what him and Peyton have done sound so crude, so dirty. He hasn't taken advantage of her that isn't it at all, he has done what any other person would've done if the person they were in love with was in hell.

He had sought to make her pain go away.

But to say it has backfired is an understatement. God only knows where Peyton is or let alone who she's with. The thought is enough to make him weak in the knee, he doesn't know what he'll do if she just begins loses all respect for herself altogether.

The necklace he hasn't realised he has been still clutching, begins digging into his calloused skin from how hard he is gripping it. The red liquid pumps and runs freely down his hand, he inhales a slow steady breath, forcing himself to calm down. To count to ten, to take a breather anything to stop himself from throttling his mom at this very minute.

He doesn't know how long the pair of them stay like that, but the ice is broken by the slam of the front door and the sound of feet dragging across the dusty carpet reaching his ears. Drawing both mother and sons attention, it's quite ironic actually considering they stood in this same plight a mere seventy two hours ago.

He can't stop the brief spark of hope that suddenly shoots through him. It has been happening since she left. Every time the front door would slam he'd think it was her and believe that she had returned from the whim she had been on and come back to his open arms.

"PEYTON?" He calls just as his uncle Keith appears in doorway. Keith looks between the pair asking with his eyes what has just happened. Neither is in the mood to share, there is no explaining his mothers tear tracked face or his rigid form and so Lucas does the only thing that he can.

Makes his excuse for his abrupt departure.

"I'm gonna go out to um..look again" is all he can seem to formulate as he picks up his nearby rucksack and proceeds to make a quick exit for the door, but just as he is about to pass the threshold he is stopped by his mothers broken voice.

"Lucas did you ever think that maybe she doesn't want to be found" Karen tries to reason her voice heavy with defeat.

"I'm not giving up on her ok, she doesn't know what she's doing its not her fault. I gave up on her once, I'm not gonna let her down for a second time. Because I love her and if you didn't know that by now then you don't know me at all" his voice grows stronger, more forceful. As he stalks off with his bag slung over his shoulder he catches onto his uncles muffled voice query what has just transpired between the two and the only response is that of his mothers final sob before he shut the front door.

The wind is turning colder and starts to blow dead leaves hither and yon. Dead leaves scuttled on the lawn, chase over the porch and come to nestle near his feet, like brown, dried up ducklings. All of it takes him back to a certain forbidden night when he and Peyton had practically ripped each others clothes off, in his dim lit room the moonlight shining through the blinds like the scowling eyes of God. Would there be a price to pay for just one terrible sin committed? Would there?

People of a holy nature will quickly say yes! _you deserve the worst punishment! Devil's spawn, I knew it all along!_

Before he can even comprehend his actions, his feet are burning shoe marks in the concrete due to the long and quick strides he is taking to his ride and the next thing he knows he is behind the wheel of his car turning the engine into ignition and grimacing at the awful crack and banging sound it creates.

It doesn't take long before he is driving through down town, but the journey is filled with nothing but the sound of his own thoughts. Is this what it feels like to be alone? it has taken him no time at all to realise that he has started talking to himself. Always the tell tail sign that one is losing their mind. As he begins passing through the interstate, he withdrew deeper and deeper into the fortress of his thoughts an unexpected thought occurs. A brief conversation he had, had with Haley yesterday afternoon to be exact. Word is flying around that a dude named Leo McGee from school is having an illegal party that is to last for days on end, there is to be everything there.

Drugs, drink, sex. The whole nine fucking yards.

God how can he of been so stupid, how can he of missed it. Maybe perhaps just by chance Peyton could have wound up making an appearance there, it isn't for sure but it is his best bet at finding her. Only God knows what sort of trouble she has walked herself into now. First things first, he has to find out where that damn party is being held and no better way than to find out from the host himself.

It's a good thing that Lucas just so happens to have Leo's number saved on his phone, when he would turn up to various parties and need things to bring. Since he wasn't old enough that is.

He swerves to the side, pulling over at a nearby dirt patch just next to the deserted highway. He whips out his cell and makes quick work searching for the contact, uttering nonsensical things to himself as he proceeds through with the painful task. A breath of relief he hadn't known he'd been holding finally escapes once he finds the contact and he dials the number frantically. Then waits with anticipation as the ring tone screams down the phone.

It rings three times before, Leo's dark voice floats through the receiver. There is no need to explain his situation, and he isn't about to if his life depends on it. So he makes a quick white lie on the spot telling him how intrigued he is by the little get together Leo has decided to create and successfully retrieved the details of the place from him, since his one of the most popular guys in school people seem to be at his beck and call. Leo tells him since his cousin Donny probably won't let him in that he will talk to him about it and let him know that there'd be another face appearing. It all seems to be working out.

He pretends to understand but he really doesn't.

"Ok cool, i'll see you there" he utters falsely, feeling mildly happy with himself because for all he knows it's one step and one giant leap for mankind. And hopefully the step that will reunite him and Peyton.

Following the direction via his phone he is soon sitting outside a shitty looking house, with an overgrown lawn and a wired fence surrounding it. It is the perfect cliche for a house straight out of a Stephen King novel. Fucked up, twisted and dark. He can practically smell the fucking weed before he pulls up. Not that he knows how weed smells, his never been into the idea of being associated with the nitties. But it doesn't means his not felt curious on more than one occasion.

He gives himself the once over before getting out of the car, mucking his hair up a bit and throwing on an old worn out jumper that has seemingly been chilling in the back seat of his car for god knows how long. He has to play the part somehow. Feeling as though he can pass, he nods to himself and pulls the driver's side door open hoping out of his mustang.

He is honestly surprised that these guys haven't been caught by the police yet. He is not in his neighbourhood at all and the knowledge scares and excites him all at the same time. Before he knows it he is rapping his knuckles on the shabby wooden door.

It takes all of five minutes for that bastard to appear, and when he does he instantly knows that what he is walking into is a very dangerous situation indeed. H really hadn't thought this through. Leo is a big and tough guy, about the height of six foot four. He has dark, hair that cascades down his neck and stops at his shoulders and comes from a family of body builders. To say that Lucas was intimidated was an understatement. This guy would no doubt break his face.

"Lucas Scott right?" Leo's deep voice queries and he nods his confirmation as Leo steps aside to let him in. Music that he hadn't heard from outside blasts at a deafening volume from a room upstairs. It is so indistinguishable to the way Peyton use to blare her music. Her good music. That he feels his throat tighten and his blinking back the burning in his eyes.

It is worse than he could of ever imagined, the house in itself is a dump and once he reaches the upstairs bedroom there is nothing more he wants to do than run back to his car and drive home. But he tells himself that he needs to find Peyton, because she's in here somewhere, he knows it.

He can feel her.

All around him are people, smoking crack, doing weed, shooting H. Hell some even having sex, he feels vomit rise up his throat as a woman paused to look at him mid orgasm and he forced his eyes away from her. His eyes wander the room and just as he is about to lose hope there she is like magic in a quiet corner, half naked, dressed down in nothing but black lace panties and her rounded rosy breasts on show, he feels his cheeks flame up almost instantly. He knows instantly what she has been up to during the last three days, it doesn't take a genius to know that she had been screwing around. The tramp stamp is the way she looks right now.

A mixture of jealousy, hurt and disappointment unfurls like a painful black hole in his gut as he watches unable to tear his eyes away.

Her eyes are wide as she focuses on the task at hand, she is shaving off some random blokes hair, muttering things under her breath. He can tell she isn't right by the way she's carrying herself, and not to mention the impish gleam in her green eyes that has been so full of hell lately has miraculously disappeared. The way she speaks contrasts hugely to her normal smooth and sultry tone. She sounds irritating, her voice an octave higher and she's giddy with excitement as the blond hair falls in clumps to the floor.

She's taken something, it was just a question of what?

"Peyton" he finds himself saying before he can consciously think about it and before he knows it he's flying across the room and his arm clamps around her like a iron grip as he proceeds to drag her to his car kicking and screaming if he has to. Anything to get her the hell out of this brothel. She doesn't scream like he thought she would, but she does the complete opposite and his fear for her mental health reaches an all new peak. She's cackling like a maniac, mad booming fits of hysterical laughter and he wants to scream at her to stop but his in no position to blow his cover, especially when their so close to making a bee line the hell up out of this bitch. Her back makes contact with the wall in the hallway and he watches on in a state of fear as she all but wets herself with mirth.

"Oh dude what do you want this one to yourself?" Leo asks and suddenly he can taste the distinct tang of bile, what the hell has she been doing here these past few days. "Yeah" he just about gets out, Leo seems hesitant for a moment and then his nodding his consent. Passing Peyton of like she's just some used doll that he owns, he wants to pummel his fists into this guys face until his nothing but bloody speechless mess on the floor. He hears the door slam and then it's just them, this hurts, the state of her, seeing her like this, the mental trauma has completely changed her and he knows this because she doesn't even care that she has pretty much everything on show, just stands bare before him, proud without a care in the world, blinking up at him with dazed, wonderful eyes.

Instant replays of the last night they shared together ricochet like a bullet through his minds eye and his jeans suddenly feel to tight.

"Luke what are you doing here?" She squeals like an excited young girl, throwing her arms around his neck and almost knocking him of his feet, but he is to furious to talk so he shoves her lightly back into the wall and holds her at arms length.

"Peyton have you been here this entire time?" He asks dangerously close to losing his cool.

"Probably" She purrs pressing herself against him, almost like she is ready to have her way with him right here is this grotty corridor. He grips her shoulders and shakes her hard, pushing her back slightly.

"Peyton talk to me dammit what have you been doing all this time?" He whispers darkly.

"Take a wild guess" her words are jumbled and slurred, a tell tail sign that she is far from being in her right frame of mind. She leans up on her tippy toes and begins to press feather light kisses to his lips that he tried in vain not to respond to, but he is frozen, unable to move from the pleasure alone, he could never not kiss her back. God why did she have to make him feel the most wonderful things, she begins trailing kisses down his chest, gradually getting lower and lower until she is undoing his belt buckle and that's when he comes to his senses. He yanks her up quite roughly causing her to exhale a sharp breath and stare at him with glazed over eyes.

"This isn't you" He sounds frantic, desperately trying to get her to see the damage she is doing to herself, he soughts to embrace her, but she leaps forwards, and proceeds to kiss him more rougher this time and he almost let's her. His gripping her arms then and pushes her back gently so he doesn't hurt her.

And this time he sees the anger flash in her green eyes, the kind of fire that use to drive him wild.

He tries in vain not to draw his attention to her bare chest but it is fruitless, when there's not a breadth of space between them. Jesus Christ it could be a form of torture. But he has to tell himself that she isn't herself, and that he is being selfish as well as a total guy. Perhaps his mother had been right.

He raises a trembling hand to touch her face but she violently shrugs him off, an animalistic grunt escaping her lips.

"Of course it is, what am I not the right girl for you is that it? because I use to be" she spits venomously, the words are like the worst type of poison and his heart clenches as her eyes form into slits. His quick to silence her but she's like a toddler that won't shut up until she gets her favourite toy and she's speaking over him in a matter of seconds.

"Peyton you need to be quite they..." He pleads and his about to all out grovel but she cuts him off.

"I'M SORRY I'M NOT YOUR STUPID LITTLE CHEERY" she growls her voice raising, he feels like his talking to a brick wall. And hearing her say things like this just about kills every bit of hope he has for them, especially when she doesn't know how deeply he cares for her. Hell his in love with her and he can't make that stop.

"Dammit Peyton stop this, snap out of it" he almost shouts, but knows better than to do so due to the environment his in. When he gets back to school Leo will pay the ultimate price for letting her fall completely of the wagon.

"GOD I'M NOT HER!" She cries out suddenly causing his blue eyes to widen with shock, she wrenches herself free from him then and drops down the wall like she's carrying the weight of the whole world on her shoulders and his sure she is. How could someone so strong and independent be reduced to a small fragile girl curled up and crying on the floor?

"We can't get out...we can't get out" she chants under her breath staring off into nothing he begins to sink down to her level, she's suddenly completely oblivious to his presence. He meticulously pulls her into his embrace nuzzling her into the safety that is his strong and protective arms.

"I'm gonna get us out, don't worry. I'm gonna get us out" he promises, wracking his mind for a way out of this.

* * *

 **Authors Note: Hi guys I know its been a while and I'm just happy I got chapter 8 up to be honest. Sorry if there are a lot of errors. I'll fix those later on.**

 **Thanks.**


	9. Chapter 9

**With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers : Chapter 9**

Title: With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers

Author(s): Blondiiee

Pairing/Characters: Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer

Rating: M

Warnings: heavy sexual situations

Summary: What was once simple, is now complex. What Peyton once loved—who she once loved—she now hates. What she thought she knew to be true, is now lies. Nothing makes sense anymore, and she knows she's supposed to tell someone what happened but she can't. So she buries it instead. And she buries the way she used to be. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason.

 **Chapter 9**

She is slowly starting to get her bearings again. Slowly but surely. She would thank God for that if she believed in him, hell she's not sure she can say she believes in anything anymore. What is the use in wishing and willing, for fuck sake even praying if she can't undo what has already been done. After all nobody comes back, nobody gets off the cross.

And she sure as fuck can't take back the mark that bastard has left on her.

The feelings of lust and drug induced hazy euphoria are slowly fizzling down into nothing but stone cold soberness, as she becomes more and more acutely aware of her surroundings and the person she's pressed up against.

If this was any normal situation, she's sure she would be the color of beetroot by now. But she doesn't feel a thing.

Not even the embarrassment of being bare before him, not the sorrow that she has walked them both into what appears to be a very shitty situation.

Only the same dark void of dirtiness and shame for who she is and what she has done to the both of them. She doesn't even know what to feel anymore or how to be anymore for that matter.

How many people is she going to bring down with her?

What will it take to make them stop laying their asses on the line for her? Especially Lucas.

Is there anything, worth saving anymore?

The questions in themselves begin threatening to send her into a state of disorientation and she finds herself clinging to Lucas even more against her better judgement. She knows better than to try and fool herself into believing this to be some cruel cynical nightmare, that she can't wake up from.

"Its ok, I'm gonna get us out of here" she really wants to believe that statement, but she can't find it in herself. She pulls away from him abruptly, her arms flying to her bare chest to shield herself from him. Where the hell is here?

"Where am I Lucas, where is here?" The words are coming from her mouth barely audible, before the thought to say them even reach her brain. She can practically see the ultimatum he is battling with spread over his gorgeous features. And can tell that he desperately wants to be pissed as hell at her right now, but knows his sick of the tough love speech because she is too.

It won't take a genius to know that all he has too do, is grab her and make a break for it. The door is closed and if their quiet enough they may just be able to get out without anyone hearing them.

A couple seconds later that's exactly what he does. She's not in the right mind set to realise his picked her up until she feels herself being lifted into the air. And the rest after that is a blur, a messed up, stressful surreal blur. Before she knows it the soft wind from outside is hitting her like a slap in the face and she doesn't know why but she feels an odd sense of gratefulness for it.

"Its gonna be ok, I've got you Peyt" she catches onto him say, and then she's being buckled into the passenger seat of his car and his coat is being thrown over her in attempt to restore some of the dignity that she has lost. It would be to cliche to ask herself how she ended up like this, because she already knows the answer to that question all to well.

She'd call it her very own dark passenger, if she had the bottle to go after the monster that set her course. Peyton's face is void of any emotion as he puts the car into gear and proceeds to reverse out. She's forgotten what its like to feel, to connect...to love. All she has is this constant, painful gut wrenching ache that won't stop and she knows that it won't be going anywhere, at least not anytime soon.

The only thought that seems to be stuck on her mind in a loop is how done she is with all of it. The car makes a jolts forward and then its flying down the road like a bullet fired straight from a gun. She can't help but flinch when Lucas takes one of his hands of the wheel to stroke her hair out of her face, the gesture is way to intimate and she needs some time away from him after being so close to him in the physical sense. She can sense his stare on her, and his staring at her so earnestly that she's afraid the very intensity of his gaze will bring tears into his eyes. Burned with anguish, but she doubts it will melt.

"Peyton, I'm so sor..."

"Don't"

She finds herself hissing, she knows where his going with this and she makes sure she's quick to stop him, because she wants to forget it ever happened. It was a mistake, a stupid, stupid mistake and it didn't mean a thing. It was just sex, and he was there for her when she needed someone.

"Peyton" his voice shook as the syllable left his mouth, in a tone that did not seek to hide his despair.

"God Luke I said don't"

"Well then when Peyton, we finally start to get somewhere then you just bail. I don't know what else to say other than I'm so sorry, but I don't regret what happened between us" the sincerity in his words has no effect on her whatsoever and she remains as stoic as before. How can he say that to her, can't he see that his done something wrong. That she's done something wrong.

She can't stop the scoff that finds its way out of her throat.

"Please just tell me what you want me to to do, I need to know because I'm in way over my head here" he pleads and he sounds so desperate that she feels her throat tighten rather uncomfortably.

She shakes her head in an effort to stop her racing thoughts and pulls the large coat tighter around herself. "Can you not talk so loud, my head hurts" she all but screams and suddenly the car is swerving to a stop at the side of the road. The sudden movement takes her by surprise and she finds her hand shooting out to the dashboard to steady herself.

"Dammit Peyton can you just listen to me for a sec?" He says through gritted teeth, Her eyes trail over to his rigid form and his hands are clutching the wheel so hard that his knuckles have quite literally started turning white.

"Can you go to hell for a sec?" She remarks bitterly and thats when his eyes finally meet hers. His sea of blue so pained and defeated that she has to look away.

"Peyt..." He cries but she's quick to stop him, she doesn't want to hear what he has to say.

"No just shut up, just stop saying my name like that. Stop pretending to care because I don't want it. I don't want any of it. What happened between you and me was just sex, when are you going to get that into your thick fucking skull" There's a sudden pang of hurt in his blue eyes and she swears to god that she sees him flinch.

"No"

"Yes"

"No"

"Bullshit Peyton, I...I love you ok. I love you" he interrupts with an almost diabolical sneer on his face.

"Well I don't love you, but Brooke does so why don't you two go and give things another go" this was worse than before, she can see him growing crimson, and clench his fist with every appearance of a meditated assault. But he seems to recollect himself, presently; and smothered the storm in a brutal curse. Which she took care not to notice, she knows that Lucas would never dream of hurting her intentionally but she really thought for a second there, he was gonna hit her.

She can't bare being in the same space of him right now, it's way to hard. She let's out trembling breath and proceeds to pull the passenger door open but his faster. He reaches over and locks her in. Stopping her from making her bid for freedom.

"God I just wanna help you" he exclaims in much anguish and she can't place why but she feels a spike of anger towards him.

"Help me, what do I have fucking sign on my back that says save me. What do you wanna know that I got raped by some terrifying Swedish guy" the words seem to be spilling easily now and it doesn't make her feel better. In fact it makes her feel one hundred times worse. She can sense the shock in the air and knows he was not at all prepared for the way she has said it so bluntly.

"Yes" he finally spits out after a beat and she's on a roll now. She pulls the coat farther down her body making sure to keep her bare chest covered to reveal all the ugly bruises and bite marks that still stain her skin, she hates the way his eyes have began softening and how his eyes are starting to cloud over with evident tears.

"You see these Lucas, this shit ain't just scratches the motherfucker bit me, he forced himself on me and he wouldnt fucking stop. You don't wanna hear that shit Lucas" her voice was starting to rise an octave higher as the burn in her throat grew more uncomfortable and her eyes started to sting. She was coming dangerously close to crying.

"I do wanna hear it Peyton because I wanna be there for you" his voice breaks and she swears his close to crying like a baby in front of her. After all Lucas has never been one to hide how he really feels.

"Lucas I need you to stop ok, I NEED YOU TO STOP!" she suddenly sqwauks and a harsh sob is quick to follow. He grabs her head in his large hands and demands her to look at him, his eyes hold a steely edge and she can tell that the determination is starting to catch up with him. The anger has long since gone and all that is left in its wake is both their pain.

"No Peyton I'm not gonna stop, I can't. I'm here ok and I'm not gonna leave you ever again" and that's when the sobs start coming up her throat, loud and heart wrenching. He pulls her into him and cups the back of her head but it only makes her cry harder. And it starts to physically hurt.

"I can't handle feeling like this anymore" she splutters out between gasping breaths, she can barely breath due to being so hysterical and all she is forced to focus on is his soothing words and meaningful promises because its all she has left.

"I'm here" he breaths into her hair, she doesn't know how long they stay like that but she knows one thing for sure. She isn't going to let him be dragged down by her, he has everything ahead of him. He has a mom that loves him, an uncle as good as his father, a girlfriend who just happens to be her best friend and a brother and best friend who would walk through fire for him.

And what did she have, two deadmoms, a deadbeat dad and a dark void inside her that will never go away. She remembers when she was just a young girl, when her adoptive mom Anna had passed away. It was like her heart had shrivelled up inside and she often use to go up there by herself after school. She would always sit opposite her mothers grave and just stare at it imagining it being her grave instead.

Here lies the body of Peyton Sawyer, she would declare bitterly. Then she would break down and cry ten oceans of tears. Digging her nails into the dirt like she was trying to unearth her mother from the ground. It was the only way she'd ever feel remotely close to her.

As if coming back to earth she abruptly pulls away from Lucas, and starts wiping her eyes. She hadn't wanted to cry in front of him again. She thought she was done with that. She has found a new way to make the endless pit of numbness disappear and it works for her.

"Please don't push me away Peyt. Let me help you"

"How are you gonna help me, how this is..." she chokes out, the pain in her throat is what stops her from being able to continue.

"I don't know" he admits honestly, "but I know we can get through this because I feel it" she alnosts smiles, just almost because his words takes her back to a mere six months ago when he declared in the school hallway that he knew they'd work because he felt it, felt it in his heart.

"Feel it in your heart" she murmurs and he gives her a sad smile before nodding slowly.

"Yeah" and he seems so sure of himself that she thinks she might start crying all over again. How could she be so selfish, he will lose everything because of her. It's inevitable. She's not sure she can let him do this to himself as well as to his family and friends. As well as to...Brooke.

"Luke what about you, what about Brooke"

"She doesn't make me feel what I feel when I'm with you"

"And there we have it, how many times are you gonna play this stupid game. Switching between the two of us because you can't decide who you want. Its not fair to her and its not fair to me, but most of all its not fair to yourself. I can't keep doing this with you...not after everything that's happened. Its too hard. And I think I've been done with you making me feel like this for a long time, it was just too late before I realised it"

"Peyton. Don't please don't do this to me. Not after what we did, you have to believe me when I tell you I love you. I need you to see that. I'm begging you"

"Its not about you loving me. I just don't know if I feel the same as I did towards you to be honest" she doesn't know where all of this is coming from, and she's not sure she wants to. All she knows is that not a single word of it is true and she can't make herself stop the poison from spewing from her lips.

Her mood keeps shifting so quickly that its becoming harder and harder to collect even a rational thought.

"I can't expect anything from you right now, your confused and in pain and I just want to help" she can tell her words have killed him inside and she can honestly say she doesn't feel a thing. Sure her feelings for him may be buried way down deep under the surface. But she can't bring herself to care.

She knows his trying so hard not to cry in front of her and he pulls away from her to start the car up again.

"Where are we going?" She finally gathers the courage to ask and desperately fighting back the bitter sob that is stuck in her throat.

"I'm taking you home Peyt" he responds his voice sounding heavy with something she couldn't quite place. Nothing more is said after that, because she settles back into the car seat and casts her eyes to the window, in an attempt to take herself somewhere else that isn't in that car.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

His heart feels like its been put in a shredder and shat on. He didn't know he was capable of feeling this much pain especially not at the age of seventeen years old. He doesn't think he even felt this bad when Brooke had wanted be a none exclusive couple, no...no this pain was much worse.

This pain was torture. It was the fires of hell, it was everything that could ever be bad or evil in the world.

He knew she was hurting, but he never once ever imagined Peyton Sawyer telling him that she didn't love him and that he meant nothing to her but some meaningless night of hot sex, he was never a cry baby but for her he certainly could be, how pathetic would it look to cry in front of a girl, in front of the girl. Perhaps it is nothing more than the alcohol or drugs or whatever she has so thoughtlessly taken still in her system.

But the way she said it. The way she looked at him...there was just nothing there.

She looked at him as if he was just some guy trying to get into her panties. And worst of all she didn't, no couldn't trust him. God it hurt.

He wishes she would lash out at him, hit him, scream at him. Have another crying fit. But she's just not reacting now and that's the scariest bit of all. He wishes she could do all those things, anything but what she had just declared to him.

Its like her soul and everything internally bright, broody and beautiful about Peyton Sawyer has just faded away and all that is left is a bitter, soulless, hurting shell of a teenage girl.

He can't help but keep sneaking glances at her from the corner of his eye. And he swears she gets more fragile and more fragile with each passing day. His afraid she's going to break.

 _ **You deserve this, after everything you've put her through. Your the one that drove her away**_ \- his head voice screams at him and his pretty sure its right. Apart of him feels equally responsible for what happened to her and his betting that his more involved than she's letting on. It'll never seize to amaze him how much smarter his subconscious self is more than his physical self, he has driven her away.

It was there from the moment he chose Brooke over her and it was there now. She may not of been able to feel anything but the raw pain at the moment but that didn't mean once she got through this she wouldn't still feel the same.

That in itself invokes the fear of God in him and he can feel himself beginning to tremble. He doesn't know if he can take much more of this, or if she can for that matter.

He exhales a deep breath to try and calm the storm that is raging inside of him. To try and cut of some of the unbearable agony that is his heart ripping. He fixes his eyes on the road and takes his hand of the wheel momentarily to roll down the window so that he can breath a little easier.

There not far from her house now, and with every inch closer they get to it. The more he begins to panic that she's going to disappear through her front door and shut him out for good. Which is why he has brought it upon himself to pull her sorry ass out of the fire.

Not because he has to but because he wants to. Because there is nothing Lucas Scott wouldn't do for Peyton Sawyer.

She's his world and if that mean losing some shit so he can help her through this so be it. But first things first, his going to try and convince her to go back to the hospital and maybe talk to someone. And when she's ready maybe she'll even tell Brooke, Haley and Nathan. And perhaps her dad.

Oh Christ her dad, he still didn't know. He would need to get his mom to phone him as soon as possible and call him back to Tree Hill. Then maybe they can all sit down together and break the horrible news.

Well he was starting to formulate a plan for her as well as himself, so that was a step in the right direction.

His so deep in his thought that he hasn't even realised his driving down her street. Obviously he has been driving on autopilot a pretty risky move. He pulls the car into her drive way and turns of the ignition. The silence is deafeaning and its a good thing she's the first one to move because he doesn't want things to be anymore awkward than it already is.

She wraps his jacket securely around herself and together the walk across the Timothy grass to her front door that he just so happens to have a key for. He opens the front door with ease and watches her closely, her actions he can tell are forced. Robotic even, he hates it.

The two of them stand in the hallway. It seems like it has been years since they last stepped foot into the Sawyer residence but the warmth of the house is the tail tale sign that it has indeed only been a week. The heating bill would be horrendous.

He reluctantly places a hand on her shoulder and feels her tense under his touch. She turned to face him gazing at him nervously and he plasters on the fakest watery smile he can muster up. "How about I run you a bath" he offers gently, running his hand through her hair.

She stares at him blankly as though she hasn't heard him in the slightest and he let's out a anguished sign before placing a chaste kiss to her forehead. He as she makes her way into the living and sets herself on one of the sturdy wooden chairs at the dinner table. With a final glance he starts making his way up the stairs and keeps moving until his made it through her angry red walled bedroom and into her private bathroom.

He heads straight to the bath and runs the tap onto hot, with the slightest hint of cold so her skin won't get burnt off. Once the bath is done he turns the tap off and briefly takes the time to appreciate the peace before he gets Peyton. Once he collects himself he turns towards the door to find her standing in the doorway.

She looks so fragile and broken that he finds his eyes starting to sting. Why did the universe have to put her through so much, had she not been through enough?

He moves towards her and slowly helps her peel the coat from her body and stepnout of her underwear. He doesn't miss the slight blush that reddens her cheeks and he smiles slightly. He can't help but take her in. She's beautiful even with all the scars and brusises.

She's angelic and perfect and he would do anything for her to be his.

But this angel can't handle anything other than what his giving her at the moment and she doesn't feel the same. That's head says but her actions tell a different story and his forced to second guess her words when she slowly steps into his embrace.

Its an intimate gesture, not sexual at all. But with her pressed up against him in nothing but her birthday suit he'd be a liar to say he didn't feel in the least bit aroused.

He slowly folds his arms around her and strokes her hair. Throwing the odd kiss in there as well. He inhales, that scent is like a drug to him. Its enough to drive the best of people mad.

He pulls back striking one hand to her forehead and they stare deep into each others eyes. A silent promise that everything will be alright. And then his helping her into the bath.

She instantly curls in on herself, flinching slightly and he knows its because her scars probably feel like their on fire. He wishes he can make it stop for her, but this is way out of his control.

And they are both breaking slowly. He grabs the nearby washrag that is neatly folded on the side and squeezes some of the rituals sakura body wash onto it before running it over her skin gently so that he won't hurt her.

He watches as she closes her eyes against her discomfort and almost out of instinct he leans forward and places soft chaste kisses to the trail he just washed. He continues with that until she's as clean as she can possibly be and after he dries her off and helps her into one of his old tops he had left at her house from the last time he slept over.

He feels amazed that she even kept it after all this time.

And he helps her onto her bed and pulls her against him. Which is when it starts to dawn on him for the first time that he no longer possesses the ability to read Peyton Sawyer.

"I feel like I'm losing my mind" she speaks so quietly that he almost doesn't hear her, at least she was finally starting to open up even if its just a little bit.

He responds with a kiss to her cold forehead and pulls back to look into her sad fortress of dull green. His more than aware that she's just allowing him to be with her because she's tired of it all she's tired of the arguments and just all of it. But he can't bring himself to believe that she really has no feelings for him anymore, because they were never meant to have an end.

Even when they had strayed from each other, and had different relationships he had always thought they would find their way back to one another.

"Just get some sleep Peyt" he murmurs and watches as she settles back against him. But she's not fully relaxed, she's on alert.

She's on edge and he fears that she'll never know what it is to be normal or feel safe again.

* * *

 **Authors Note: Peyton's finally starting open up to Lucas. But everything is steal not right in Tree Hill. But with Tree Hill comes drama. Does Peyton really not love Lucas anymore? Leave your thoughts.**

 **SPOILERS: Lucas witnesses one of Peyton's horrifying night terrors. Lucas attempts to talk to Peyton about moving forward. Peyton takes it out on the comet. Brooke and Lucas talk about their relationship. Brooke, Lucas and Peyton all have it out.**


	10. Chapter 10

**With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers : Chapter 10**

Title: With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers

Author(s): Blondiiee

Pairing/Characters: Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer

Rating: M

Warnings: heavy sexual situations

Summary: What was once simple, is now complex. What Peyton once loved—who she once loved—she now hates. What she thought she knew to be true, is now lies. Nothing makes sense anymore, and she knows she's supposed to tell someone what happened but she can't. So she buries it instead. And she buries the way she used to be. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason.

 **Chapter 10**

Lucas sits tensely, on full alert at the opposite side of the room. Watching as her chest heaves erratically and the light blooms of cold muck sweat linger all over her body, soaking through her bed sheets in it's wake. She had startled him from his somewhat restless slumber when she had started lamenting incoherent words in her sleep, yet when he'd tried to wake her it had only served to make matters worse. He grimaces as a pained cry escapes her lips, his insides instantly turning to stone cold led.

It feels as though she's been at this for hours. And he vows to Christ that it's torture to watch.

He can't stand seeing her like this, and it's that thought alone that propels him to his feet, before he knows what he's thinking his out of her desk chair and padding cautiously towards the bed, raising a trembling hand to her damp face.

Brushing back the stray curls as his fingers caress her cheeks. The pad of his thumb, stroking against crisp, porcelain skin.

"Please...please" comes her breathy whimper as her face scrunches up in what he can only identify as the emotions fear and abhorrence.

"Peyt baby wake up" he endeavours leaning down to place delicate kisses to her cheeks in an attempt to rouse her. But it is fruitless, she is too deep in this crippling nether world. The salt of her sweat lingers on his tongue like some sort of indentation, but he could care less because it's her.

It's Peyton, and he'd go to hell and back for this girl.

As selfish as it seems he'd rather she was safe here in her bed having sleep terrors, than be lying dead in some gutter or being held captive as someone's personal sex slave.

Words can't even describe how much he wants to make this go away for her but he knows this kind of thing is way out of his understanding and all he can do for the time being is wait it out. His exhausted brain has long since passed the battle to find a solution in stopping this unfolding hell.

Her hands fist the sheets that surround her almost dementedly, and she gasps for breath...for life, her face contorts up again and another strangled grunt of torture trembles from her rosy lips. Tears leak forth from her closed eyes and her body fights violently with the invisible person that seems to be doing a great job of paralyzing her to her spot.

The rational part of him tells him to stand back and not make matters worse because the last thing he wants to do is scare her, but his heart tells him a different story altogether and it seems to be compelling him into soothing her.

His hand unconsciously travels to her thigh and then she's thrashing, thrashing so violently that it almost knocks him right of her bed. And the most inhuman and blood curdling scream he thinks his ever heard in his seventeen years sounds from her. He swears up and down that he can feel the torment behind it right down to his very core.

"Stop. Stop. Stop" her plea is frantic and his instantly releasing her as though he's just been burnt. He wishes he had been.

His heart clenches because he knows she's not here, she's not with him, in fact she's reliving the moment all over again like some never ending roller coaster ride that she can't stop.

He pins down her flailing arms, in attempt to stop her hurting herself or him and he knows it's not one of his brightest ideas but he doesn't know what else to do. To say that she's scaring him would be an understatement because he's fucking terrified.

With one final shriek, her body lurches forward and then she's scrambling back wildly into the headboard in an attempt to escape. Escape from him. Her pupils are dilated and almost black with delirium, and he knows for sure that she's snapped out of the trance that has had her going off the deep end for the last half hour.

He knows exactly what is about to come, and is painfully aware that she's gonna be inconsolable in a matter of seconds.

"W-Where w-was I...where was I?" she splutters out barely able to form a coherent sentence and her formally elvish eyes blink excessively through her tears. It only takes him a minute to note that his breathing is just as fluctuant as her's and he swallows thickly in attempt to get himself calm enough to at least piece a sentence together.

"Your at home Peyt" he assures.

"I don't kn- I don't" she stutters a pinch to her brows, still not completely with him.

"Hey it's ok, you're just confused" he coos but she shakes her head fitfully her unruly hair falling even more into her face.

A hot sweaty mess.

"I- i thought y-you were h-him...I t-thought y-you were him" he feels sick, and the hurt that unfurls in his belly can't be stopped. The tears are dancing in her eyes but they are yet to make the journey down her flushed cheeks.

She's looking at him like his the most depraved human being, looking at him like his violated her in the worst possible way.

"Peyton it's me, it's Lucas...your safe" he soothingly reassures and risks extending an arm to comfort her but she cowers farther away from him until there is quite literally nowhere to go.

He feels the dread ripple down his back like cold droplets on an icy window pane.

"Peyton it's ok it was just a dream...it wasn't real." His convincing words do nothing for her and he can see that as clear as day. He mentally scolds himself because its a thoughtless thing to say, especially when he knows that its a repressed memory that has came to a head due to her denial, a moment later she's reading his thoughts.

"Y-yes i-it was, it w-was r-real" she stresses her voice bordering hysteria and pitching to an a full out shriek, and then his reaching over to flick on her bed side lamp, the light will guide your way is a saying that he's heard once or twice, is it possible that the statement is true. The space brightens instantly, an immense contrast to the unsettling darkness they had just been sitting in a few seconds ago.

Her cheeks are splotchy and red and she's an even bigger wreck than he thought she was.

He notes how she squints her eyes against the harsh light and a few seconds later his doing the same, when his eyes come to he watches as she takes in her surroundings a hand flying to her chest. She's piecing the pieces together in her mind, the realisation of where she is slowly clicking in her brain. Red walls, drawings, vinyls, Lucas?

"Lucas?" She breaths out and he barely recognises the small frail and desperate murmur of his name that tumbles from her parched mouth. Right now he doesn't recognise this version of her at all, the scared and fragile version instead of the vision of an angel his so use to.

"I'm here" he promises her and is caught of guard by the sudden sound of disgust that sounds from the back of her throat.

"Oh...god" she chokes out, slapping a trembling palm over her mouth and throwing the sheets back to stumble out of bed. She rushes past him in a flash of blond curls and his quick to follow. Before he can enter into the bathroom with her, the door is slammed shut in his face. And a horrible choking sound, resonates from the opposite side. It doesn't take him long to conclude that she's getting sick.

He stands there helplessly rocking on the balls of his feet and his hand gripping the cool metal handle seriously considering whether he should just bite the bullet and go in. He didn't like the idea of leaving her alone when she was so afraid and sick. Slowly he pulls the handle and pushes the door open to see her hunched over the porcelain seat and retching so violently that it instantly has him on his knees next to her, rubbing her back and pulling her soft hair back.

He whispers incoherent words in an attempt to calm her.

And it continues for another three minutes before, she's pulling away from the toilet seat and scooting herself back against the wall. Her head falls back and her lips part to allow herself to breath deep soothing breaths. In the meantime he gets up to flush the contents of her stomach down the toilet where it belongs.

When his vision shift to her again, her head as has fallen into her hands and she's gripping her hair so hard that he begins to fear she might rip it out.

He watches her nervously as small whimpering sounds escape her parched lips, and she bites down hard on her lower lip.

"Peyton are you ok?" He murmurs almost inaudibly, careful not to alarm her. He attempts to shift closer but she isn't having any of it. She's too caught up in trying to separate fantasy from reality.

"Just get away from me...pl-please just..." she trails off as she shrinks farther away from him and she looks at him as if she's only just seen him for the first time. "I...I-I'm sorry I just...I-I need a m-minute" she rasp, resting her head on her knees. His trying to understand, he really is but he can't cope with the way she's reacting to him and the sudden mood swings. One minute she can't keep her hands off him and the next minute she's a sobbing girl scared to be in close proximity with anybody.

Even the one's she should trust.

He can tell she's trying hard to compose herself and he feels as though his looking at a stranger, and not the Peyton Sawyer he knew a mere two weeks ago. Yet again his reminded of what one person's horrible actions can do to another.

"Don't be sorry Peyt, it's not your fault...I-I should be the one who's apologising" he tells her and the words seem to be coming a lot more easier than they had previously. He pauses waiting for her to jump down his throat, to hit him, to chime in at anytime...anything. But she simply stares at him with dazed, confused eyes listening intently to what he needs to get off his chest. When really it should be the other way around.

Maybe he should've just left well enough alone. Just when his about to give up in getting a response out of her she's talking.

"I just wanna be left alone" she breathes but there's something cold about the tone she uses, something off.

Not really being able to do much else, he follows through with her request and closes the door. It shuts with a soft click and his torn between rushing back in and gathering her in his arms to hold her tight and never let her go or calling her dad to tell him everything that has happened. But he knows if he does either one of those things A, she'll push him away or B, she'll completely shut down and begin to loathe his very existence. She'll never forgive him.

He trudges heavily over to her bed, and it sinks when he sits.

He stays there like some sort of watch dog til the crack of dawn, just staring at the closed door which bores straight back at him, almost threateningly. With every quiet sob, his heart breaks for her that little bit more.

His sure she's still awake, even though all he hears now is nothing but the cold slap of defeaning silence and the sound of his own breathing.

He doesn't think his ever been so grateful to see the rays of sunlight seeping through the blinds and hear the soft chirping of birds, and in a way it sort of brings him peace.

If only Peyton could find some peace. If only she could stop pushing him away.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

Getting back to sleep is a myth. The dream still sits with her, raw and fresh and nagging at the back of her mind. She's not sure whether Lucas is still here or not but if she knows him his probably watching this door like a hawk. She stays in there until, she sees the glint of sunbeams begin to peak through the gap under the door, and even then she can't bring herself to move, that is until she hears Lucas mumble something through the door about going off to sort something out and the rattling of the front door slamming from downstairs.

She's on her feet in an instant and making her way to the door, hastily unlocking it. Once open she squints, the light hits her so strong that it's like she's a vampire being baked by the suns grating rays and it takes a moment for her to adjust. Making her way towards the window, she cracks the blind and peers through just in time to see the tail end of Lucas' mustang sail swiftly down the road and turn a corner. She backs away from the window almost as fast as she got there and her hand flies to her mouth, for reasons she doesn't know.

Perhaps she's finally driven him away, maybe he just doesn't want to know anymore.

But that would be a good thing right? This was what she wanted all along, to be left alone...

Right?

She was being stupid again, of course it was. At least know she could be left alone to her own devices. But if that is the case then why is her legs starting to feel like jello, and why the hell is she finding it hard to breath. She all but runs to her bed just as her legs are about to give out. And one thought and one thought alone screams in her mind...

Brooke.

It's gotta be, she should have known that everything he had said to her, every promise he'd made her, every declaration of love, every intimate touch had all been apart of a cruel web of lies. But she can't really blame him she told him she didn't love him and she doesn't, at least that's what she's telling herself. But that doesn't make it feel like any less of a punch in the gut, besides this was what he did best when she rejected him.

Run to the next girl that came along. He did it the first time she broke up with him with Nikki and Brooke and he she was almost positive he was going to do it now. The whole thing was quite pathetic really.

The very thought has the bile rising back up her throat and the wretch that follows is inevitable. She just about reigns in her disgust and then she's on her feet again, this time she's on a mission.

She makes her way into her walk in closet and violently rips down one of her burgundy Michael Stars Henley tops and some skinny jeans. A massive contrast to her current choice of dress these last five days, if she's been wearing anything at all. Today marks change, she's going to dust this under the carpet like she had been doing before Lucas came along and ruined everything.

Perhaps she can even begin to accept, if not she will force herself to do so in the typical Peyton Sawyer fashion. Because one thing she's not is weak and she's fed up of being victimised although trouble always seems to find her. She's survived a dead mom, a dead beat for a father, drugs, a boy who can't make his mind up about what he wants and...she's survived a rape.

Surely she must be able to survive this next part.

She doesn't know whats going through her head when the first thought occurs all she know is that she's never been more certain of anything in her whole life. She dresses as determined as a kid trying to ride a bike and quickly too.

Next thing she's tearing down some more clothes in a heated frenzy, and then she's on a roll, she dumps them all over her bed and repeats the action until there is quite literally nothing left to take. She needs new clothes, yes new clothes, new room, new everything...and especially a new car. From here on out she's going to be Peyton Sawyer the survivor and this time no one will ever hurt her like that again, mentally or physically.

She won't let them.

Back to the car situation no, she can't possibly drive that car after everything, it wouldn't be right, she's not sure if she can say her mother would even want her driving it, she'd be turning in her grave. And what would her dad say if he knew she was driving such a precious car to him after such a brutal assault, her guess is _\- I can't look at you right now, sleeping around is that it...is that why you're in this mess?_

The thought doesn't sit well with her at all, and her stomach is once again churning. She forces her mind to go blank.

To drive it would be an insult to the both of them.

It had to go.

The hair change was only just the beginning, she was going to do what she wanted, when she wanted and with whoever she wanted. And nobody, not Lucas, not Karen, not Keith was gonna stop her.

It takes roughly half an hour for her to gather up all her clothes and dump them in the backseat of her car. And before she knows it she's sitting behind the wheel and driving to god knows where. The drive in itself is twenty minutes and a while later she's sitting in front of a charity shop, she really should have thought this through before she just threw everything in the backseat.

She yanks the driver's door open and walks around to the backseat of her car to gather the various clothes up in her arms. Then she's stomping towards the shop, a look of pure through and through resolute etched on her features. She flies into the shop like a bat straight out of hell and does well to ignore the disapproving glances of the other citizens. And the rest as they say is history, she manages to get rid of all the unwanted clothing in the space of the time it took to arrive and then she's off again and she knows exactly where her next pit stop is.

Like she said the car's got to go.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

He walks slowly up the front porch dreading the conversation that he knows his about to have. But he doesn't have a choice but to clear things up with Brooke, especially now that his slept with her best friend (also the girl that his in love with). Truth is his praying that it doesn't go down in flames and perhaps even they can part on good terms. Brooke's a sweet girl and he loves her, its just that he isn't in love with her.

His partly came here for himself if you look at the closure side of things but mostly his come here for Peyton because she needs some support outside of him.

He prays to God that his not making a mistake by coming here. Is it really his place to share something so personal. He knows for sure that Brooke will look at her differently and what if she told his brother or his best friend Haley.

Could he really take that risk?

With a sigh he raps his knuckles on the pallid front door of the Davis estate and waits patiently until he hears the sound of her footsteps making their way to the door, a second later his met with the sight of a beaten down puffy eyed girl.

And he has to say she's seen better days. This isn't the girl he dated.

They regard each other for a moment before he finally speaks, hoping to break the ice. "It's a nice day out, you know staying insides not good for your health" he would smile but his too tired to even try, and he can tell by the defeated look on her normally bright face that she is to.

"What do you want Lucas?" she asks with a sort of flippant attitude, but he hasn't come here to fight. He just wants them to break up with no hard feelings and hopefully maybe talk about Peyton because whether she can see it or not she needs her best friend at a time like this and since she won't let him in maybe she can let Brooke in.

"I wanted to apologise, about the other day I just- I just it didn't come out how it was suppose to come out" his stumbling over his own words because it's hard to voice what you want to say when you've barely put a thought into planning it.

"Look Brooke your a great girl and...you...we...I've been doing a lot of thinking these past few days. And not just about you but about everything, about me" he utters hoarsely searching her hazel eyes but she cuts him off sharply.

"Well this sounds promising" she mocks and he knows he deserves it.

"I guess I deserved that" he murmurs speaking his internal thoughts and just as his about to defend his honour she jumps down his throat yet again.

"You have some nerve coming to my house after you cheated on me with that pink care bear" she hisses and he doesn't bother trying to lie because it's so true.

"Brooke when I..." but he trails of his eyes shifting to the floor in the wake of his guilt.

"Lucas just say what you want to say and get it over with. Wait don't bother because I already have a pretty clear picture. You wanna break up and your sorry" she's pretty much sums it up like she's just had a glance into his mind and he finds himself temporarily astounded. But he recovers like a champ.

"Brooke I'm sorry" he says sincerely, and if anything her expression turns even more icier than before. It reminds him of how Peyton had looked at him earlier.

"Did you ever really love me Lucas or did you only settle for me because Peyton didn't want you?" she queries quite spitefully and the words tear at his heart strings because yet again his reminded that the girl his in love with doesn't want him.

His honestly speechless, he knows deep down that his never really been in love with the brunette but more so the idea of her, it's always been Peyton. He simply continues to gape at her and he watches as her eyes glaze over, she's obviously about to cry.

"Well that pretty much tells me all that I needed to know" she mouths almost inaudibly and makes an attempt to shut the door in his face.

He desperately puts his foot in the doorway preventing it from closing and his hands clutch at the frames, his nails dig into the wood so hard that he begins to believe he might bleed. "Brooke...I need your help" he pleads and the crack in his voice can't be hidden.

Her facial expression changes then, and he watches as visible concern slowly spreads over her face. "What is it?" she asks carefully and in that moment he sends up a silent prayer that this doesn't come back to bite him in the ass.

* * *

 **Authors Note: I know it's been a while and sorry for that its just things have been a little hectic and I'm lacking inspiration lately. My laptops in repair so I've been having to write via phone which isn't easy, I know I've been writing mostly in Lucas's POV at the moment but next chapter will be specifically Peyton as we find out where she went and what she did? So will Lucas tell Brooke? read more to find out.**

 **SPOILERS: Will Lucas betray Peyton's trust out of desperation? What will Peyton do since she's gone off on a seemingly mental spree?**


	11. Chapter 11

**With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers : Chapter 11**

Title: With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers

Author(s): Blondiiee

Pairing/Characters: Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer

Rating: M

Warnings: heavy sexual situations

Summary: What was once simple, is now complex. What Peyton once loved—who she once loved—she now hates. What she thought she knew to be true, is now lies. Nothing makes sense anymore, and she knows she's supposed to tell someone what happened but she can't. So she buries it instead. And she buries the way she used to be. A/U Peyton/Lucas WARNING- dark subject matter, M for a reason.

 **Chapter 11**

Breathe.

One.

Two.

Three.

Breathe.

One.

Two.

Three.

She grips the wheel fiercely and speeds down the highway like a woman possessed. Her ears ache, her temples throb, her senses are jaded and she knows she's not up for this even in the slightest.

Now that she's not abusing all those substances anymore or hiding in a shell it seems that venturing out on her own is more than formidable and scary.

"Come on Sawyer just think straight for a second" she grumbles to herself, and she finds her foot pushing on the gas pedal even harder than it had been previously, civilians in their cars are no doubt casting astonished gazes at her, probably questioning themselves to whether the young blond has a death wish and she's pretty sure she probably does.

Yes, that she knows for certain.

The car picks up in velocity and she feels a burst of pure adrenaline as the wind continues to slam harshly against her face.

Her hair is a phoenix of gold that sails swiftly and unruly with the current, wrapping her in a cocoon that seems to be doing an outstanding job of taking her to her very own little world. Time passes, and she can feel it. It's almost painful, every tick that goes by...aches...like the pulse of blood behind a bruise...but in a way she's glad.

The pain is her only reminder that she's still alive.

It's no secret that she's lived through pain before, she's done it all and is a pro at being hurt if not physically, mentally. She survived the pain of Lucas choosing Brooke. Seeing Lucas so intimate with her best friend had done nothing to quench the burning pain that'd coiled deep inside her core. But she had grown too tired to find it in herself to care anymore, especially when he had been so willing to give up on them before they even begun.

It had been a pathetic move, a move only the weak would play in the chess game that had become their screwed up lives. She knows if she tries hard enough to forget it might become a possibility for her, but even she knows at the back of her mind that it's inevitable.

She can't stop thinking about it, whether it's driving her car, or in her house all she can picture is him on top her and she's so disgusted that it actually threatens to make her physically sick.

She recalls a dream she had, had a couple nights after the incident, it was one of the rare nights that she had somewhat got a bit of sleep. It had been a normal day, and from what she could describe she felt the odd feeling of slight joy.

The scenery had been almost picturesque, white picket fences, dogs barking and bees suckling pollen from freshly bloomed flowers, she'd looked over and she'd had a good view of her friends sitting in the cafe, although she couldn't hear it Lucas's laugh had brought a genuine smile to her face. Her eyes had caught onto something out of the corner of her eye.

It had been him, the Beast.

The monster that haunts her reality, as well as her nightmares. She had been so petrified she couldn't move, she couldn't speak, she couldn't BREATHE.

She begun tasting metal.

It had been her blood and she had a awoken to come to the realisation that she had almost bitten off her tongue.

She begins tapping her fingers on the wheel in time to the beat of Wild One by The Runaways that cracks through the speakers like the sound of bacon frying in deep pan, it's a nervous habit that she can't quite shake.

She almost laughs at how ironic the choice of song is, but the throaty chuckle doesn't quite make it passed her lips and it comes in the form of a bitter sob. Almost as soon as the sinking feeling begins to follow she pulls herself together, determined not to go there again.

It won't achieve anything.

Lucas will starts wondering of her whereabouts soon enough, and that's when she'll really have to start panicking.

He always without fail got down to the bottom of things especially when those things are about her, it's one of the qualities she hates about him in this particular moment.

She's convinced that, that boy would jump in front of a moving train for her whether she gave him her say so or not and the knowledge of said truth scares the holy crap out of her.

She's not aware of how far she's gotten until she's pulling into a place that reads Fethiye, it's an absolute shit hole littered top to tail with rusty and useless parts of car caucuses.

She's heard of the place before fellow students from school majority being boys that is would talk of their travels there, simply just to see if they could discover any dead cars worth bringing back to life and selling.

She shakes her head, as if trying to focus her eyes. God if only she could just focus for one fucking second then she'd be fine. In a millisecond she's pulling the car up onto the gritty brown soil, all rational thinking seemingly having to of flown out the window. Slamming the door shut so hard the whole vehicle shakes, she saunters over to what seems to be a crow bar discarded and forgotten next to one of the rusty car parts.

"It's for the best" her head voice tells her and the thought becomes a constant loop in her addled brain until she actually starts believing it.

This irrational and very compulsive action hurts, it hurts her more than she can voice in words, but it has to happen because this car is the only reminder of who she once was. And now that she's not the strong, Buffy Summers - woman scorned martyr she was it is if anything a crime to even dare possess such a sacred item, that has been of sentimental value to her family for generations and generations.

This is something she has to do on her own.

The first blow to the windshield is like a shot of heroin, and the sound of glass cracking and mass destruction has her craving for more. It's amazing, it's euphoric and so she strikes again this time with an all new type of bitter force.

The windshield caves and remnants of the transparent little knives drop onto the scarlet leather of the seats. She laughs at that, no scrap laughing it's more of a squeal of pure and utter content. But this one isn't filled with angst like many of the others before it's mere exhilaration and Adrenalin.

Hell, it's almost too much to handle, or even begin to put in words.

It is as though she's taken flight, like no one can touch her. She's unstoppable now, and if anyone dares to challenge her she'll repeat the same method on them as well until she is satisfied with her work.

If she could find it in her to stop she would, but she can't seem to garner a conscious thought. There is no thought of her father Larry Sawyer's disheartened and bleak appearance when he figures out what has become of her, there is no Lucas, there is no Brooke or Haley or Nathan.

It's just her.

And she can't be more thankful for that. If only it was that easy, to just turn it off. To feel like this every waking moment of every brand new day. The world would be something she smiled upon instead of the once golden, shimmering mirage that now made her sick. Smashing this classic ride, to pieces is the only hope she has left and anyone was a fool to think she wouldn't jump at the chance.

All this screaming into her pillow at night, the sex with Lucas to make herself feel better it is behind her now because she can be better than that, it's make or break time. She's choosing to be a survivor not a victim and Lucas is a fool if he thinks she'll let him pander to her every need.

Perhaps going back to pretending it didn't happen again will kill her soul altogether and if she doesn't have a soul then that means that she won't have any emotions left to eat away at her conscience. Seems perfect, is perfect and it needs to be done.

It will be done.

Call her crazy but it's the only thing she has remotely close to magic. It's her own personal brand of pixie dust, becoming this new person entirely might just be exactly what she needs to put this all behind her for good and by pulling herself out from this funk she's been in for the past week it might just prove to be the making of her.

A brave new world.

Forget this easier said than done bullshit that she's heard before, it will be easy and it will be done because it is the only incline of an option she has and she can't give up on it for the life of her. She'll die if she does.

She has a plan, call it drastic and many may call it a bold move. But it's real, it's solid and it seems like a shout.

You can't live in fear.

She's going to leave town, that's right leave Tree Hill for good. Run as far away as possible until it is a literal blur in the distance and until she can see a way past all this misery and grief. She needs this.

It is enough, she's been strong her whole life and now that she can finally admit what has happened to her she wants to live again. To stop feeling dead inside because lets face it she no longer feels the tingling swarm of warmth she should feel when she's around Lucas anymore, she no longer feels the joy of picking up a granite pencil and sketching her feelings away, she no longer enjoys the existence of Peyton Sawyer.

She no longer wants to feel anything.

And if it turns her into a robot or psychopath in the process then so be it, anything is better than this alternative. She pants and gasps for breath as if she's just came down from one of the best orgasms of her life and hurls the crow bar off to some place forgotten.

This...right now. This very spot in an abandoned rut of unwanted debris is where Peyton Sawyer died and a fresh new protagonist is born. This is where she is reborn, this is where her life begins again.

Does she love Lucas anymore?

Lucas? Lucas who?

A bitter beam sprawls on her flawless features and she lets out a constricted breath she doesn't know she's been holding stepping back to admire her handy work. There are no tears, no heartache as she glares at the ilk motor that once served to hold such significance and importance in her life. In everyone's life.

"It's where it belongs" she murmurs to herself shaking her head for reasons she doesn't know. In a matter of seconds she's heading for the exit gates her shoes making ugly crunching noises against the dirt. It reminds her of somebody chewing crisps.

The next stop will be her house, she'll pack a bag of the clothes she has left, hopefully enough to get her through at least two weeks and then she'll come back for the rest of her stuff.

She'll go to Charleston or perhaps LA. Maybe she'll even go to Savannah and visit Jake.

Jake Jagielski the teenage dad, with his beautiful BLONDE baby daughter Jenny. The family she never had. She and Jake had, had a brief romance the year before when Lucas and Brooke had made things official. She'd needed to move on, to kill the pain, to bury the hurt and there was no other positive way to do so other than getting back on the trolley. Besides, her answer wouldn't have been found at the bottom of a bottle.

Jake had quite precisely came out of nowhere and swept her off her feet just as she was about to hit rock bottom, and she'd found herself falling for him instantly, she had been in love with the idea of the perfect family, the mom, the dad and the kid. There is definitely unfinished business there.

She still has his number saved on her phone, she can call him right now if she wanted and that is exactly what she is about to do.

She whips out her cell and 30 missed calls from Lucas lights up her screen.

She pales, he really isn't going to give up is he? That'll be enough of that. Her thumb shoots out and hits the block button putting an end to all the excessive calls. He needs to let her go.

She scrolls down until she finds the familiar name of an old friend and in one compulsive decision she presses dial.

This will break Lucas's heart. But she guesses she doesn't owe him anything, and he doesn't owe her anything in return. The whole thing was stupid, a mistake surely not to be spoken of again.

Every shrill ring that screams down the phone, feels like one step closer to death for her and it seems like forever until his husky voice is crackling down the receiver. One syllable is all it takes for her blood to feel like it's been set on fire, for her breath to trap in her throat. For her hands to start shaking and for a moment she swears she feels her dead heart come to life ever so slightly.

"Hello" he says again and she's at a loss for words. She's amazed at how his number is still the same, she wonders if his changed at all in the time they've been apart.

'Come on Peyton say something' she yells internally and when she opens her mouth her voice sounds so unlike hers that it is deeply disturbing.

"Jake" she almost whispers and she forces herself to breath before she passes out.

There's a long moment of silence and then...

"Peyton" the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, it's insane that he still has that affect on her. For known reasons what she can only put down as guilt starts to form like a swarm of hideous swamp gnats in her stomach, and again she's reminded that this will indeed kill everything that Lucas Scott is. This will drive him over the edge, he will do what he did with Nikki when she first left him, who knows he might even get back with Brooke in a desperate attempt to mend his broken heart and if rejected for a second time it will be his undoing.

He'll turn dark, he won't see a way out of the pain. He might even turn cruel and shameless just like his father.

It will be beauty who killed the beast. That is who Lucas Scott will be without Peyton Sawyer, call it overthinking but to her it's the most foreseeable thing in the world. When love ends madness begins.

"I-Is that you?" his words are like the sweetest of honey's pure, rich and just good. So good.

To say she's not deeply affected by this would be a lie. She's sucked in and she can't get enough.

"It is so good to hear your voice" she voices her thoughts, not answering his question but she's sure his figured that one out for himself.

"Yeah it's been a while, how are you?" she wants to get past this casual to and throw of words. That's not them, never has been and his an invincible if he thinks otherwise.

"Good everything's fine what about you, how's Jenny" she croaks out and feels like she's just forcing herself to talk now.

"Were fine, she's walking and chats the ears off everyone she talks to but she's great"

"Jake can I-I c-can I come see you" she chokes, she knows it's been a while and she feels like she's taking the absolute piss but there's no bad blood between them and she's sure that he won't turn her away. He had told her when he left that it wasn't the end, that they'd find there way back to each other maybe that time is now.

Maybe by throwing herself into this new life, with the perfect family might prove to be just what she needs. She'll be able to finally forget all this madness, forget Lucas. It's not confusion it's survival.

She has to look out for herself now.

The words he utters next has her lips turning up in one of the first true smile she's done in a while. She's almost hopeful. "I thought you'd never ask" and the rest as many say is history, she leaves Fethiye without a backward glance, she walks into the early evening and it takes roughly half an hour on foot to get back to the familiarity of the town she knows and hates.

Tree Hill.

The name hangs over her head like a curse, and she swallows thickly. She should have thought this through, before making the unreasonable decision to smash her car to pieces the bus journey to Savannah would take days. But she'd much rather that than face an eternity of misery here. She floats through the town and in a matter of time she's rounded the corner of her street.

So many memories, good and bad.

Time to leave it all behind.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

The talk with Brooke had gone down better than he had expected it, well depending on how a person looked at it. Define better. He hadn't told her anything of course, it isn't his place to be spreading around Peyton's business especially in a town so small, news spreads like wild fire. It would of only made matters worse and he is in the dog house as it is.

This is something Peyton has to tell her on her own terms, and he would have to be extremely cruel to expose something so personal. It would be like the time capsule. Which is why he had decided to bring Brooke to Peyton's house, it was time for intervention and Peyton was doing this whether she gave him her consent or not.

Preferably if he had it his way she would of been being seen by specialists or people who understood what she is going through by now.

But his to frightened, frightened of her reaction, frightened of losing her trust when his worked so hard to get her to open up.

Frightened of losing her.

Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea bringing Brooke around here when they are currently each others least favourite people, his treading on really thin ice here and Peyton has been like that of a ticking time bomb lately. This might very well be the thing that tips her over the edge.

To say he was mildly shocked when he had arrived back at the Sawyer residence to find a very empty house would be an understatement. His blood had run cold, his heart stopped, his palms had begun to feel sticky and the room suddenly to hot.

He had flown around the house like a mad man searching high and low, his breathing coming in shallow fast and desperate gasps.

Deaf to Brooke's frantic questions. He had been about to rush out of the front door in search of her when he had been stopped by Brooke's firm grip.

She had asked him why he was reacting the way he was, and it was then and only then that he had realised he'd almost blown both his and Peyton's cover. And he'd had no choice but to think fast and make up a lie on the spot, after he'd retired to her bedroom and sat on her bed his phone clenched tightly in his left hand.

He'd tried her cell about 30 times, not that he was counting. And to no avail, oblivious to Brooke's curious and alerted stare.

Which brings us to this particular moment, he hadn't moved since then paralysed with an intense panic that served to be immobilizing him to his spot.

They had come for her, he had been certain of it. And sitting there he feels like a coward, a useless pathetic coward. His about ten seconds away from leaving this suddenly hellish property and making it his mission to track her.

"Lucas what's going on?" Brooke queries for the umpteenth time getting up to pace the small space again, but he can't find the words just like he hasn't been able to for the past four hours.

She's got to be ok.

One.

Otherwise his life as his knows it will be over.

Two.

"LUCAS!" she snaps and he can't help but jump because he hadn't been expecting the sudden outburst.

Three.

He opens his mouth to talk but just as he does, the sound of the front door slamming downstairs garnering his attention, he doesn't make it to the terrible ten.

He shoots up to his feet almost falling over in the process and all but bolting from her bedroom.

"PEYTON?" he asks and stops at the top of the stairs breathlessly.

She's right there, she's home and everything's going to be ok now. She hasn't left him, she wasn't taken she had simply gone out to get air is all, some her time. Time to reflect.

He feels his lips twitch slightly and a relieved sigh exits his moistened mouth.

He takes a step down the stairs, a bold move he knows but he could care less right now. His to overwhelmed with solace and he desperately wants her in his arms safely nuzzled against his chest just how it's suppose to be.

Perfect.

He takes another step down but she recoils and he feels his insides turn to led. What? No This isn't happening not again, not after everything. He got through to her, they were getting somewhere.

"I've been w-worried sick P-Peyt, I th-thought you...I thought they. Well I don't really know what I thought but that doesn't matter anymore right, all that matters is that y-your here yo-you came back to me" He began talking excitedly, but with every word Peyton seems to draw further and further into herself. His words suddenly die on his lips, his blue eyes darkening with worry.

Something's not right, she's changed, this is all wrong. He can sense it in her body language, she's...different. Stand offish if you will.

Cold.

"Peyton what's wrong?" his voice musters croakily and he feels the uneasiness shoot through him sending an unbidden corollary all the way to the tip of his fingertips and toes.

Her eyes finally skitter to his and he feels his heart stop. Like before there's nothing there, just blank. He swears for a moment his looking into the eyes of a stranger. This can't be the girl he knows an loves so dearly.

Her soul is gone.

She's gone.

"We need to talk" four words, twelve letters. The strength in her voice throws him off, and his baffled. She sounds almost just as robotic as she looks, this can't be real.

It's not real.

* * *

 **Authors Note: Thank you for all the support and reviews. Sorry it's taken so long i've been really busy but I've found time to write. I feel like there could've been more to this chapter and i'd like to freely ask you guys what you think should happen next chapter since i'm not gonna lie I've been lacking inspiration as of late. What do you guys want to happen surely you've all imagined how things could have panned out differently between Leyton in the early seasons. Now's your chance to speak out!**

 **SPOILERS: Lucas, Peyton and Brooke come to blows. Will Peyton flee town and leave Lucas to be with a long lost lover? Is she confused or had some sort of epiphany?**

 **Thanks.**


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